


My Immortal pain in the arse

by LostBoy626



Category: One Direction (Band), Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angels, Demons, F/F, Fanfiction, HarryIsAImmortalPainInTheArese, HighWarlockOfLondon, ISuckAtThese, Immortal!Harry, KidnappingButNotReally, M/M, MatureLanguage - Freeform, MatureScenes, MentionsOfPastAbuse, MentionsofViolence, Multi, Mundane, Sensitive!Louis, Shadowhunters - Freeform, Vampires, Violence, Warlock!Harry, Werewolves, forgiveme, institute, larry - Freeform, tagstobeadded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-27 23:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostBoy626/pseuds/LostBoy626
Summary: Louis Tomlinson doesn't know what hits him. One second, he's living the normal college life, then the next he's being drug into a world full of monsters from his favorite childhood stories. Faced with warlocks, vampires, werewolves and more than he could have ever imagined, will he finally find a place he belongs? Or will the betrayal be too much for him to handle once the secrets begin to unravel?~~~Harry Styles is an immortal Warlock. He knows all there is to know, seen the world he helped create, get torn down by the very things he has sworn to protect. He's seen wars bloodier than you can imagine, and has taken more lives than he can count. But still held within the confines of his rib cage, sits a golden heart, thumping away and refusing the be tainted by the world. But when an opportunity arises, will he take it without a second thought? Or will the key to his one wish be too much for even him to handle?Relationships will be tested and lives will be torn apart. Will love be enough to save those already lost? Or will his golden heart finally get it's one wish, and stop beating all together?(Rest of summary in notes)





	1. Mundane

**Author's Note:**

> (This is lightly based off the tv show Shadowhunters, and the Mortal Instrument series. There are some similarities, but I am following my own story path and hope you give it a chance.) 
> 
> This is my first work in this fandom, so go easy on me! I do not own the rights to the Mortal Instruments.
> 
> Louis Tomlinson doesn't know what hits him. One second, he's living the normal college life, then the next he's being drug into a world full of monsters from his favorite childhood stories. Faced with warlocks, vampires, werewolves and more than he could have ever imagined, will he finally find a place he belongs? Or will the betrayal be too much for him to handle once the secrets begin to unravel?
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Harry Styles is an immortal Warlock. He knows all there is to know, seen the world he helped create, get torn down by the very things he has sworn to protect. He's seen wars bloodier than you can imagine, and has taken more lives than he can count. But still held within the confines of his rib cage, sits a golden heart, thumping away and refusing the be tainted by the world. But when an opportunity arises, will he take it without a second thought? Or will the key to his one wish be too much for even him to handle?
> 
> Relationships will be tested and lives will torn apart. Will love be enough to save those already lost? Or will his golden heart finally get it's one wish, and stop beating all together?
> 
> In this, people fall in love. 
> 
> It's just, maybe ones more in love with life than he lets on to be? And maybe one is scared of giving up his fantasy and facing reality. 
> 
> \--
> 
>  
> 
> Everybody was so focused on the flashing lights, the thumping music people timed with their grinds against their partners, that they didn't see him. He was dressed in a black suit, light catching it and making the suit sparkle, appearing as if hundreds of shards of glass clung to the material. His brown curls hung around his shoulders, the flower crown I'd last seen missing. He was looking for someone, or something, and when I moved around a swaying body, green eyes found mine. 
> 
> I'd been spotted. 
> 
> And thank god, because I was tired of searching.

The day we met began like any other day. I was running late to class, trying to find a shortcut through the hoards of buildings when I finally turned right down an alleyway and ran. The only sound was my feet hitting against the wet pavement, proof of last night's thunderstorm. My bag was hitting my side, both painful and obnoxious and that pairing was way too early because I'd yet to have my coffee.  
  
I had paused long enough to dig in my bag and find my phone, when a noise in front of me had startled me and my movements ceased. It sounded like a metal bar falling, followed by a low groan. "Hello?" I called out, hand curling around the pocket knife I kept tucked in my bag for rare occurrences like this.   
  
My feet began to move against my wish, and I found myself drawing closer to the grunts and swishing noises until I came face to face with a man, or rather his back. He had on a black, body length jacket and he was turned away from me. There was something in his hair that I could seen peeking out from beneath curls, but at my standing point, I couldn't see what. He was tall, that much I could see, but even then his body didn't completely cover the man he was currently holding up against the wall, hand around his throat.   
  
"It is not me you have to answer to, Daniel. I have done all I can— it is the claves turn now," the man said, voice deep and accent thick as he lifted his other hand and twisted.   
  
My first reaction when I seen the thing appear in thin air, blue and crackling as it spun in circles, was to scream and run but I was frozen in place, the fear rooting my feet to the damp asphalt. "I didn't kill them!" The smaller man argued through chocked gasps, face turning red as he clawed at the iron fist around his throat. "Jaclyn d-" he began, but his eyes found me instead and a smirk turned those blood stained lips. "You have company,"   
  
I shook my head, fear spiking as my fight or flight kicked in. I didn't want to be spotted, didn't want to get caught and held up against the wall too as I begged for my life. The taller man tilted his head in my direction, not looking at me but just enough I knew he was acknowledging my presence before he suddenly picked the man up, and threw him towards the blue thing.   
  
The man went inside of it, not through it, and it closed as soon as his body disappeared into it. "What are you doing here, mundane?"   
  
Mundane? What? "I-I was going to class— I'm-I was trying to find a s-shortcut." I stumbled over my words, tears springing to my eyes as I stared at the empty space before me, wondering what the fuck I'd just seen.   
  
"You shouldn't be here," the man forced out with a grunt, body slightly hunched forward.   
  
"Listen, that's something we both agree on," I said, lifting a hand as I slowly began to walk backwards. "So, why don't I just forget I was ever here, and leave!" I practically scream the last word as I turn and ran. I didn't feel afraid of the man himself, but there was something fucked up going on back there and I didn't want to stick around to find out what.   
  
I'd only made it a few feet before he was suddenly standing in front of me, creating a wall of solid body that I ran into and crumbled to the floor like a mess, both hands aching and chest tingling from where it had met his. "You can't leave. You'll run around and tell everyone you know what you just seen, and I can't exactly have that. My arse is kind of on the line." He said, voice calmer than before and sweeter, like honey and it was smooth.   
  
Instead of defending myself, I thought it would be a good idea to stand up to him instead, remembering all the bullies who I'd done the same thing to. "Listen, I don't know who you are or what the fuck kind of shit you were doing back there," I said, picking my bag up which I slung over my shoulder. I was sure I only had courage because I hadn't yet seen him, hadn't put the grizzly face to the smooth voice now slower and thicker that he wasn't fighting, and I made the mistake of looking at him. "But—" the words died on my lips, instantly turning into ash when I finally seen him.   
  
He was... beautiful. Chocolate waves of milky curls fell delicately to brush his shoulders, each perfect and not a single hair was out of place. He had a flower crown resting on top of his head, hair twined in with it to keep it fastened in place, and in places I could see the sharp, prickly thorns poking out, bringing the dangerous side out in the beauty. Blue eyes fell to find green ones, the mossy orbs curled around the dilated black pupil as he too, stared at me. He had strong facial features that were somehow delicate. Soft, pink lips were downturned in a frown, an adorable 'v' appearing between his eyebrows as confusion swamped his features.   
  
He was too beautiful to be too confused, too beautiful to be dangerous and I found myself stepping closer to him. His nose was small, twitching as he inhaled my scent, and his jaw was undeniably strong as I watched it tick. "I— uh.." words no longer existed in my mind, brain short circuited and I could only image the smoke, flames and sparks shooting out of my ears. "I—" can't form a coherent sentence.   
  
"Are a mundane interfering with the claves orders," he offered, still looking confused but his voice betrayed him. He was as affected as I was, and the slowness of his words, the thickness and careful consideration put into each single word, didn't go by unnoticed.   
  
I shook my head. "You keep saying mundane. I'm Louis. You must have me mistaken with someone."   
  
He laughed at this, the sound hollow and I couldn't hear his chest rattling, couldn't hear the heart in the noise but he wasn't faking. He just looked so unused to laughing. "Not mistaken, no. You're human, yes? You smell it."   
  
Smell like it? Like what? Lifting my arm, I carefully tilted my head to subtly smell there, but all I could pick up was the faint sweetness of my dove deodorant, paired with the earthy smell rain brought. "I—I'm sorry? I didn't realize I stunk."   
  
"Oh, you don't." He said with a small snort. "Quite the contrary. Mundanes have a sweeter smell. Their blood is fresh, and their skin isn't old. You smell great." He said, mouth immediately clamping shut as soon as he finished. Apparently he had said to much, and I agree.   
  
He was a weirdo. One second he was telling me I stink like a human, then the next he was telling me I smell good. What the fu— wait. "What did you do with that guy!" Suddenly remembering how I'd met him in the first place, I jerked back, trying to get as far away from him as I could without moving far enough away that I couldn't smell that... scent rolling off of him in delicious waves. It was woodsy and sweet, with a hint of spice and underlying of mint.   
  
Rolling his eyes, the man moved to lean against the wall with a leg kicked out behind him, making the black trench coat open slightly and reveal the black skinny jeans he had on and the bright, purple buttoned up shirt. "He was a rogue vampire. Killed a bunch of people."   
  
"A-A what?" Blinking back the confusion, I faltered in my step back and nearly fell. "Who are you?"   
  
"Harry Styles," he said with a cocky grin, "High warlock of London."   
  
Laughing, because it all just clicked into place, I began to look around, trying to see if I could see Leah or Jane. This had to be a prank. "Very funny. Who put you up to this, Harry? If that's even your real name."   
  
"Oh it is, biscuit." Pushing up off the wall, he began to walk slow circles around me. "Has been longer than you've been alive." He paused behind me, and I could feel his breath ghosting down my neck, could feel the goosebumps rising on my skin. "Now, leave before I change my mind. Or stay, and deal with—" walking in front of me, he held his arms open and offered me the sight of his lean, perfectly sculpted body hidden behind the thick coat and too many layers of clothing, "me." Normally I would take him up on that offer, but not today.   
  
Despite the sudden urge to be closer to him, I managed to ignore the itch that began beneath my skin, and I took the offer. Quickly moving around him, I took off running, not offering him a second glance as the words from the scary stories I'd been told, legends, rattled around in my brain, paired with the one single word from the fantasy land. I'd always admired Warlocks, had quite a crush on Harry Potter— wait a second! It all makes sense now. Why he said his name was Harry, a.. a warlock named Harry. It wasn't a coincidence.   
  
I dialed Leah's number as soon as I was mingled in with the flow of people continuing on with their day, rushing to get to work or school or something similar. "Funny," I said as soon as she answered. "I thought you'd outgrown the childish pranks, Leah. For Christ sakes, you're twenty four."   
  
"What the hell are you talking about, Louis?" She asked, and I had to give it to her. She sounded genuinely shocked and confused.   
  
Rolling my eyes, I sidestepped a man at the back of a Starbucks line that went clear out the door, and eyed the small coffee cart a block down. "The warlock named Harry. Really? As if I wouldn't figure it out." Giving a small snort, I pressed the crosswalk button with my elbow and eyed the small screen with the giant red hand. "What did you use? A fake wall for that blue thing. Who was the guy? Cause I gotta tell you, I was genuinely convinced he'd disappeared into some floating orb thing."   
  
Starting to walk once the numbers began to count down, I fixed the strap over my shoulder so it was no longer digging into my neck, and brushed a hand down the soaked front flap.  _Great_. "Louis... Are you using weed again?"   
  
"What! No. Haven't touched that shit since high school. But what does that have to do with anything?"   
  
When I'd reached the other side of the street, eyes no longer fixed on the white lines showing where you were supposed to walk, I counted ten steps in my head and stopped in front of the coffee stand. "Because, either you're on some other drugs, or somebody else is fucking with you because I haven't the slightest idea what you're on about. You're off your trolley Louis, as I've been telling mum for months."   
  
Cupping my hand over the speaker on my phone, and not believing what she was saying at all, I ordered a tall Yorkshire tea with a splash of milk and four lumps of sugar -yum-, before bringing the phone back to my ear. "And you expect me to believe that? You're the only one, other than mum, who knew of my Harry Potter obsession. It's not a coincidence that I just ran into some block who claims to be a warlock with the same name."   
  
"Listen, Lou, even if it was me, I wouldn't have used the blue thing you're talking about. Whatever it is, it doesn't sound like it's from the books." And she was right, it looked like nothing I'd ever seen before. "Besides, I've been in America all week. Book signing, remember? If I was to prank you, I'd want to be there in person."   
  
 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. It wasn't her. Couldn't have been. Leah has done a lot of shit, but even she wasn't capable of doing visual effects like that. The most she would have done was waited until dark to use a projector to make it seem like someone had, snape, had cast the patronous spell. Huffing, I offered the man a wad of crumpled bills and took my offered tea.  
  
It immediately warmed my hand through the paper cup, fingertips blazing and tingling as the warmth chased away the chill in my fingers. "Right, right."   
  
"I'm worried about you, Louis. You've been odd—"  
  
I hung up without letting her finish the sentence, a sudden tingle running up my spine, the feeling of being watched magnified when I turned around even if I was in the middle of a busy street and people did cast me the occasional glance. It was more then that.   
  
And it wasn't even seconds later that I seen that head of chocolate curls ducking behind a sign outside a clothing store, his awkwardly long body somehow disappearing completely behind it. He was following me, and there was a reason. I knew it.   
  
Somebody was Fucking with me, and it had to be someone who knew of my family. My mum was far too "proper" to do something like this, so it was either one of Leah's little gremlins, or-or. I don't actually know.   
  
Stomping towards where I'd seen him, I shoved my way past sweaty bodies, wishing yet again that people knew what showers, deodorant and cologne was. There was far too many bodies I was bumping into, and far too many body stenches that I could smell.   
  
Again, I seen the curls just behind the side and I rounded the corner as fast as I could. "Who are—" I stopped mid shout, eyes widening comically when I seen the toddler standing behind the sign, head full of short, chocolate curls. He jumped at my yelling, tears welling in his eyes as his bottom lip began to wobble. "I—uh. Sorry?"   
  
The kid took off running, in full blown hysterics, right into a buff woman's arms. Not my cup of tea. Following suit, I ducked behind the same sign I'd seen Harry jump behind when the woman looked at me. I didn't even have time to kiss my ass goodbye before I was falling, arms flailing and body going limp as the air supported me before I was deposited on something soft, fluffy, springs coming to life and bouncing. "What. The. Fuck." I hissed, entire arm burning from the scalding hot tea that had followed after me and popped open, making the sticky, sweet smelling liquid pour all over my arm.   
  
I rolled over and was greeted with soft sheets, red in color and slippery, like silk. The room was plain, walls white and bare aside from a single mirror that hung on the wall opposite of the one the bed was pushed against. "I see you've made it safely." A voice said, and I don't think anyone has ever mastered a half roll, half jump quite like I have. I managed to tangle myself in the silky sheets, lower half of my body becoming tangled in the heavenly feeling hell. A very manly squeak, that actually sounded like it came from a teenage girl, squeezed out of my throat and I was falling ass backwards off the bed.   
  
Only... to never meet the floor.   
  
"Believe me now?" That same voice asked, tantalizingly familiar but in my current state it could belong to Queen Fucking Elizabeth and I wouldn't know it.   
  
My eyes were screwed shut, face obviously still very attractive but scrunched up with my mouth permanently open. "You can open your eyes, you stupid mundane. You aren't falling."   
  
Ah, Harry. And despite the feeling of still falling, I somehow believed him and my eyes flew open at the sound of the apparently new nickname I'd adopted. He was right. I wasn't falling, but was rather suspended in the air, feet still tangled in the sheet that was still on the bed, and beneath my armpits was the same blue color I'd seen earlier that the man had disappeared through, only now it was thin, like a rope. It was holding me up, keeping my from falling, and when I followed the rope down my body and across the bed, I seen Harry standing there, looking both creepy and fucking beautiful. Odd pairing, no?   
  
"What have you done to me? Where are we!!"   
  
"Saved your arse, that's what I've done. Thank me later," with a cheeky grin, he lifted his hand that the end of the rope was seemingly floating out of, and I followed the movement. He set me on the bed, movements oddly careful for a stranger, and a man who he just kidnapped me.   
  
"You call taking me against my will, saving me? Let me fall, arsehole!"   
  
"Okay." He responded with a shrug, and with a flick of his wrist an invisible force was shoving me off the bed and I was falling, sprawling on my hands and knees to the wooden floor.   
  
"Funny," I gasped out, all air knocked out of my lungs.  
  
"I surely thought so."   
  
When I'd managed to suck in enough air I no longer felt light headed, I crawled to my knees and threw my arms over the bed to heft myself up enough I could peak over the edge and glare at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"   
  
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he folded a leg up on the mattress and laced his fingers together before cupping them over his knee. "Haven't figured it out. I've been trying to figure it out for centuries. Let me know when you have the answer? I'd love to finally know. It's been annoying."   
  
Was it possible to hate someone this much when I'd just met them? Apparently. "You're seriously off your rocker."   
  
"For years. Haven't set on one since nineteen twenty..." he cut off, fingers tapping the air as he counted on them, head tilted to the side as he thought over his answer. "Nineteen twenty seven. Man, I would kill to go back to those days. Loraine made a mean apple pie."   
  
Scoffing, I stood to my shaky legs and looked around for the door, only to see there was none. Or a window. "I want to leave. Now."   
  
"You're awfully demanding for someone so small."   
  
Okay. Now he'd hit a sensitive button. "I am not small, you curly haired freak! Now let me go!"   
  
I stuttered over my breath when he flinched back at my lashing, eyes fogging at the cruel name I'd called him. "You don't get around much, do you? You can't judge someone for their height, then get hurt when they call you a name."   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"Because," I answered, unsure myself. "It doesn't work that way."   
  
He hummed in acknowledgement and stood. "Your rules are confusing."  
  
"You keep referring to me as human, and mundane, and saying 'your' rather than 'ours'. You're as much human as I am,"   
  
He laughed then licked his bottom lip, teeth following the distracting movement and clamping down. "Am not."  
  
"Are so." I argued, but had a moment of clarity when I heard my own voice. I was arguing with a grown man like he was a child, while being in a doorless room against my own free will. "You didn't bring me here to argue, so spill. Come on. I've already missed one class, and you're obviously you're working for my sister. Can't we just skip over this whole thing, and get to the end when you spill her clever prank?"   
  
"This isn't a prank," he said, shaking his head. "It's real, like both you and I."  
  
"As if I would beli-" I began, but my voice was suddenly gone. Harry held a clenched hand in front of his face, waving it when I looked at him. No matter how loud I tried screaming, not even a peep came out.   
  
"I was tired of listening to you," he admitted, moving his hand down to his side. "So, until I've said all I need to, you'll be unable to speak. Giving me a chance to say something without your short arse interrupting or refusing to believe what I'm saying."   
  
Smoothing out his suit jacket... wait, when the fuck did he have time to change into a suit? It was purple, the same color as the last shirt, and the buttoned up shirt beneath it was a simple white. "I am a warlock, and that was a vampire I was dealing with earlier. The 'floating orb thing' you seen, was a portal. I sent him to the clave,"   
  
 _The clave?_ _  
_ _  
_"Yes, the clave."  
  
 _He's answering my thoughts!_ _  
_  
"Ah, yes I am. A small telepathy spell, and you can really do anything." Rolling his shoulders, he moved his free hand over the wall and a window appeared. Through the foggy glass, I could see dirt with a tiny crack of light filtering in above it.  
  
 _We're underground, aren't we?_ _  
_  
"Yes. However, I brought you done here and took your voice so I could talk. Not just answer your questions." Opening his palm, a glass appeared in it, sloshing with brown liquid that he took a sip from before offering it to me.  
  
And no, I wasn't drinking shit he offered. He was loony, a Fucking maniac and I didn't care what he showed me. Didn't change the facts. He shrugged. "As you wish."   
  
Realizing I wasn't going to be let go soon, I crawled up on the bed and made myself comfortable, expecting to hear the hiss of pain I was sure would follow when the sheet brushed my arm and my attention was drawn to the red, angry burns that ran across my arm. "I'll fix that later, but you must listen to me first."   
  
 _Fix it? How?_ _  
_  
"All will be answered. Patience, my young mundane."  
  
Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a pillow from behind me and placed it on my lap to fold my arms on. If I was being held without any say, literally, I might as well make myself at home. My eyes found his body, and I groaned in disappointment when I finally took everything in and realized what I was missing out on. A normal day, I would pounce on the opportunity to talk to him, maybe even let him take my virtue, but it was always the pretty ones that were fucking insane.  _Go on._    
  
He smirked, and I knew he was through peaking. "Believe what you want, but this," he raised his hand, a ball of blue floating perfectly above it, hovering over the fingers decorated with many different rings, "is real. Vampires, werewolves, warlocks, angels and demons, we're all real. And I could lie and say that we're all nice, but we're not.  
  
"You're the unlucky soul who happened to walk down the wrong alleyway, and I was given orders to erase your memories as soon as I was done with my task at hand, but you're immune to that. You seen past the glamour, could see us when you weren't meant to, and they really thought a silly little memory charm would take that all away," shaking his head as he t'sked, Harry sat on a chair that randomly appeared in the corner and crossed his legs.   
  
"See, I knew there was something different about you the moment you didn't walk right past me— us, not seeing what was going on like every other mundane. But they refused to believe me, until I gave them proof. No mortal, mundane or likewise, should be able to enter this room without spontaneously combusting. The wards make sure of that,"

  
We both looked around at the same time, and I wasn't sure if it was one of his mind tricks but I could see the blood as it seeped through the white paint, watched as horror stricken faces became painted in the walls. I could hear the screams, the begging, all the torture and pain that had happened in this room, and simply closing my eyes did nothing.  
  
"You feel it, I know you do." He sounded smug. "You can't deny it, and neither can they. See, I believe you're a sensitive. Not a full blooded angel, but enough angel blood courses through your veins that makes you immune to all the warlock charms. But there's... there's something else. Something I can't put my finger on."   
  
My throat welled up as the fear crashed over me and I was left drowning as my sobs fell on deaf ears. I could feel them ripping my throat to shreds, yet not even a gasp came out.   
  
 _So what, then? What are you going to do to me?_ _  
_  
Even in my head, my voice sounds whiny; breathless and desperate. "Send you home. I've convinced the clave leader you are not a threat, and please do not make me a liar. I have a reparation to uphold."  
  
 _Why bring me here in the first place then?_ _  
_  
"To warn you. If you squawk to anyone, including that little mundane sister of yours, about what you seen or heard, I will not be able to stop them when they murder you and your entire family."  
  
Murder! Okay, this game has went on for too long. Jumping to my feet, I flattened my hands on the -now- white walls and began to feel, searching for a door even I knew I wouldn't find.   
  
Leah couldn't be drug into this. Harry, or whatever his name is, had followed me and got her name and who knows what else? They could have her now, could have my mum.  _What do you want?_ I asked him silently, speaking without the words I had taken from me.   
  
My family was far too important to me, so I stopped in my efforts to find the hidden door, and instead let my head fall against it. I was giving up, or in.

  
"Personally? Nothing. The clave? Your silence. As long as you keep quiet, you and your family remain safe." He said, but in his voice I could sense something was off. He sounded reluctant while also a little... pained? To be saying this?

  
_Was this hurting him to do?_ _  
_  
I know he heard my silent thought, but he didn't answer it. Instead, I heard some fluttering behind me, soft movements followed by a gentle squeak of the chairs springs. "You will be safe. As long as you keep your end of the promise," he whispered softly, voice right in my ear and I could feel his body behind me, lined perfectly with my own.  
  
But when I turned around, I wasn't in the room any more. I was standing in the middle of my own flat, the burns on my arms gone and.. "Hello?" My voice was back!   
  
Had I just imagined the entire thing? Had my tea been drugged, and I'd been wondering the streets aimlessly, fueled by drugs and common sense gone?   
  
Maybe I had.   
  
Moving hands over my body to assure I had all body parts, I swallowed thickly and darted my eyes around. I was alone. Taking a few shaky steps forward, I couldn't help but look around, paranoia ringing in my ears. It was there, on my table in the middle of my kitchen that I seen the small box, looking in place to a stranger but so out of place to me.   
  
Cautiously approaching it, I poked it with an umbrella I'd found leant against the door and when it didn't move, I took a step closer to it. Written in neat cursive at the top was my name in black ink, a single yellow rose resting on top.  _My favorite._ _  
_  
I slipped off the lid and inside was a white, folded piece of paper. Gently, I picked it up and studied it without unfolding it before setting it off to the side when a reflection of light caught my eye. Sitting nestled on a small, red pillow was a blue crystal, top enclosed in gold. When I picked it up, a gold chain wrapped around my fingers and the crystal rest heavily in the palm of my hand, the dark blue now lighting up to a brighter blue.  
  
"What the—" I asked the air, not finishing the sentence in favor of picking up the paper. I unfolded it carefully, still on high alert in case some boogeyman jumped from out of my closet.   
  
The letter read;   
  
 _I am not your enemy, nor your friend. I am simply a man looking out for you and trying to do what I think is best. In the box you'll find a blue crystal. Careful with it, because it is older than your great, five times over, grandmother. It is real, and valuable. If it lit up when you touched it, like I know it will, that means my speculation was correct and you're more than just a simple mundane. Put it on, and wear it always. It's enchanted. Nobody will be able to track you, and as long as they have bad intentions, nobody can harm you. I can't make you do anything, but to stop 'freaks like me' from finding you, I suggest putting it on as soon as possible. Word has already gotten out, and you're quite popular, Louis Tomlinson._ _  
_ _  
_ _Now, enjoy your freedom and stay true to your promise. I'll be watching._ _  
_ _  
_ _With care, H._ __  
  


_P.S. Steer clear of alleyways for a while, yeah?_

_  
_Okay, what the actual fuck?

——

And I suppose that's where our story began. 


	2. Wake up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter takes place in a dream, or rather a land untouched by physical forms. I thought I would clear that up to prevent any confusion...
> 
> BUT! I am so happy that you guys are enjoying this story! I have enjoyed writing it, and can not wait to continue posting chapters. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below?

The feeling that somebody was watching me, wasn’t because eyes were trained on me so carefully I could feel the intense stare. No, if I dove deeper past that initial feeling, I could feel the tingly electricity curving up my spine and licking at the back of my skull. It wasn’t unpleasant, just a warmth that was slightly uncomfortable.

My movements were slow, sluggish as I turned around and like that day I met him, I seen Harry ducking behind the sign. Was what happened just a dream? A well put together hallucination that had my deepest fears being diminished when faced with immortality and demons. Was it really my subconscious trying to ease the worry I had? Trying to help the steady click of my time clock slow down?

“You shouldn’t be here,” a voice said, and this time I instantly recognized it as Harry’s. Soothing now, though. No sarcasm, pain or hatred in the words. “Louis, wake up. You shouldn’t be doing this!” Then again, he was much more persistent now. His voice vibrated the cottony white walls that surrounded my vision, had chills racing through my body.

But unlike before, I was left alone in the street. I could smell everything like I could that day. The richness of coffee, the tempting aroma of freshly baked bagels, the sweetness of tea and the underlying, disgusting scent of body odor. Even with all those scenes clogging my nose, I was left standing alone in the middle of the street with Harry’s voice ringing in my ears as he spoke, yet again.

“Louis! Wake up. It’s a trap. WAKE UP.” He shouted the last word, the frantic tone in his voice finally having my body react. My heart lurched forward and I seemed to move in slow motion as I whipped around and was suddenly falling through a wall. Much like Harry’s, but black.

I scream, the same desperation I’d heard Harry speak with now swamping my body. “Harry!” I called out, the whistling of the wind carrying my words away. “Harry! Help!”

I fell into water, thick, slimy water that had mushy stuff that instantly wrapped around my feet and felt like tentacles. I couldn’t fight their grasps, couldn’t keep my head above the water as I fought its strong current. The sky was dark, black and the only light I could see had to be miles away. It was faint, blue, but even then I could see how brightly it must be burning.

The water slithered into my lungs and expanded my chest, threatening to make it burst open. “Hello, Louis,” someone spoke, voice gravelly and distant. It was cold, harsh and not at all friendly. “You can’t begin to understand how happy I am to see you here.”

The water began to pull me under, this time more persistent and I could no longer fight the invisible force trying to push me into the depths. I got one last gasp of air in my lungs before I was shoved into the water that was thickening as the seconds ticked by, to the point I couldn’t move my arms or float to the surface even if I tried. “Harry!” I used the last of my air to scream, entire body aching as the water began to crush me.

Everything began to grow blacker, darker than before, and just when I thought I was done for good, the entire sky was filled with blue. It was blinding, warm,  _powerful_ and it pulled me out of the water. I didn’t get to see the face of my savior, his face lightened by the same blue light. But he grabbed my shoulders, shook me while something slithered around my neck, and scream in a voice that scared me to my very core, “WAKE UP.”

I listened to his command, and woke up gasping in my bed, jerking upright with my entire body dripping with water, black and skin slimy. My feet were covered with that mushy stuff I had felt, grey and nasty, and around my ankles were marks, tiny holes piercing the skin and almost looking like hundreds of tiny teeth marks. What just happened?

The dream had been so vivid, feeling as if it had really happened. And why was I wet? I could still hear Harry’s voice in my head, could feel that’s mans hands on my shoulders and that blue light was enough to make the horrible, dreadful feeling that man in the water had planted in my stomach, disappear. It had been a week since I’d met Harry, so why was I now suddenly dreaming about him?

I’d almost called Leah, until I remembered the conversation I’d had with Harry, which I still didn’t know if it was fake or not. But I wouldn’t take that chance. And I couldn’t call Harry. Besides the crystal he’d left me on my table, and the note, he hadn’t left me any sort of contact information. I knew he lived in London, could feel his presence close to me, and it was strange. Which is why I didn’t put on the crystal. I could feel him stronger when it was around my neck.

“I’m so done with this,” I decided with a soft breath, arms held up and extended in the air, away from my body. My night shirt was soaked with whatever that liquid was in my dream, and— shit, I wasn’t wearing pants. Lovely.

But it was only a dream, wasn’t it? Even though I wanted that to be true, I knew it wasn’t. I knew the beginning of the dream had been a message, a silent assurance that eased my worry and answered the one question I’d had that had bothered me most. Harry said he tried to erase my memories, but when had he had the chance? Surely it wasn’t in the room, and the dream had shown, or rather let me feel, when that exact moment was. The magic, was still twined with my spine, remembrance heavy. He had done it on the street. That’s how I had felt him, not just his stare.

Climbing out of bed with a huff, I eyed my ruined sheets and threw my head back as my bottom lip jutted out and my body bounced with the sobs I wouldn’t let out. “Why me?” I whined, catching my reflection in the mirror. Sitting around my throat, looking so tantalizingly perfect and in place, was that damned crystal. It was glowing, a soft light barely noticeable, and it was turned to rest just above my heart, stuck to the shirt from the slime.

“Have fucking dreams about a warlock and wake up to his necklace around my neck. Great job, Louis. You’re really losing it, buddy.” Giving myself a thumbs up, I forced a smile and rolled my eyes. “Great.”

Stripping from my clothes proved to be impossible once I’d reached my bathroom and had began to try. The slime, was like glue. Adhering the clothes to my skin, almost as if it was another layer. “Come off, you bloody things,” I growled, tiny grunts falling from my lips as I fought against the clothing.

It took ages, but I finally found a way to get them off. I closed the front of the shirt in the bathroom door to help hold it away from my body, then I bent myself in half, nearly, and walked backwards with my arms easily slipping through the arm holes. My boxers -aha, sure- were much easier to slip off, and it wasn’t until I was standing in the nude and the necklace had shifted that I noticed the marks around my neck.

The golden chain was imprinted in the pale flesh, the burns bubbling and right where the crystal had been resting above my heart, set a large burn, red and angry with purple and black striking through the burn.

Okay, enough. I needed answers, and I needed them now.

Stomping out of the bathroom in my birthday suit, the draft chilly but not bothersome, I plopped down at my table and opened my laptop, doing the thing I had been tempted to do but didn’t want to. Opening chrome, I typed in google before entering Harry’s name in the search bar, finger hovering over the enter button.

Before, I could pretend that he was real. That I wasn’t going insane and that everything had happened, but if I pressed enter, and found nothing on him, it would answer that fear I’ve had for a week now; that I truly was off my rocker. That I’d imagined such a beautiful creature because I was scared of the inevitable, because I was tired of being alone.

Luckily, however, that wasn’t the case. As soon as I pressed enter, his face popped up on the screen. “Harry Styles, private physician of London.” He looked so different in the profile photo provided. He looked proper, fake, posture perfect, eyes hard and lips missing the grin I seemed to now associate him with. The photo didn’t show the sarcastic arsehole I’d met, didn’t let onto how fragile he truly was, once you seen behind his exterior and persona. I’d only gotten a glimpse.

Brushing off the feels, I clicked the link provided and a webpage popped up. It was all too professional looking, with a list of his specialties and it even had a section for clients to comment. He had five stars, no shocker, and all the comments were positive and boosting, saying how amazing he was and how he was nothing short of a miracle worker.

Blowing out a breath, I rolled my eyes. Yeah, real miracle worker. He could kidnap people in broad daylight  _and_ get away with it. Wait... Why hadn’t I gone to the police?

Oh yeah, because of the THREAT on my families lives.

“Stupid warlock,” I mumbled, yet I didn’t click out of the link. I scrolled trough the torturous comments and at the bottom, found a white box full of his contact information. It provided a cell phone number, email, and even the address to his office.  _Lovely._

“Harry Styles,” I said with a grin,” your arse is mine now.”

—-

The building the address had led me to was  _much_ more intimidating then I’d originally thought. It had to be at least 50 stories, with far too much glass to be safe. Not to mention it looked like a loft building, rather than an office.

“You can do this,” I said, giving myself a small prep talk as I stood outside the tallest fucking building I’d ever dared enter, in the middle of the night, dressed in fluffy bunny pajama pants and an over sized grey jumper. My hair was still damp from my shower, legs and chest aching and the closer I stepped to the building, the louder the pulsing in my head came, the stronger the tingles became. I could feel him. Harry was close.

“You look lost,” an Irish voice said, soft and careful.

I turned to look in the direction I’d heard the voice come from, and seen a short man, though taller than me, with blonde hair, brown roots, and blue eyes approaching me. He’d just stepped from the building I didn’t have the balls to go into, the automatic sliding doors just now getting around to closing.

“I-uh, not exactly.” I said hesitantly, hand reaching around to scrub at the back of my neck. “Just... don’t think I have the balls to step inside,” I admitted with a blush, gesturing towards the building.

He laughed, sound glee filled, and his head tipped back, Adam’s apple protruding against pale flesh. “And why is that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I admitted with a breath, rocking back on my hills.

He clicked his tongue and mirrored my movement, rocking back on his feet as his hands entered his front pockets. “Whatever the reason, fear is only as powerful as you allow it to be. I assure you, nobody in this building is worthy of such power,” he gave me what I thought was a knowing look, but he couldn’t possibly understand what I was going through.

“Yeah, uh— thanks,” I said with a soft chuckle, fog forming like a thick, transparent cloud around my lips.

“Anytime,” he said, two fingers going to his forehead. He saluted me before turning around and walking away, steps fast and brisk but he looked like he was effortlessly keeping up with the pace he’d set, despite the length of his legs.

Weirdo.

Even so, he had spoken truth. I gave my fear the power I thought it had, and be as it may, Harry was only a human.... who happened to do very good magic tricks. Because that’s all they were.

Taking a deep breath, and mustering up as much courage as the night air could give me, I walked forward, straight through the doors, and into what appeared to be a waiting area.

It was small, a little couch sitting pressed against a floral decorated wall and next to that was an entire wall, half of it glass with a small window open where a woman was set. She looked tired, glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose as she peered down at the book she held on her lap. Now, I wasn’t used to lofts this expensive or nice, but was a.. a receptionist really necessary?

“Um, hello. I’m here for an appointment with Harry Styles,” I said, the lie easily falling from my lips.

The woman offered me a simple glance before pressing a button, a soft buzzing noise heard before the door off to my right kind of rattled and the screen above it flickered from red, to green. “Top floor. Only door up there,” she said, and she sounded tired too.

Offering her a quick thanks, I walked through the door that immediately slammed shut behind me, and tipped my head back to stare at the hundred stair cases that spiraled all the way up and made me sick to look at. “No. No. I will not. I refuse.” I said to myself, shaking my head. Coming here was fine, the distance wasn’t too bad, but I wasn’t about to bust my arse to walk up to the  _top_ floor only to see some man I barely knew, and who had kidnapped me.

_You need answers._

Yes, but not that bad.

Okay, maybe I  _did_  need them that badly.

 _“_ Here goes nothing,” I said as I lifted my foot up to the very first step.

——

Exhausted, I collapsed against the wall at the top of the stairs and fought to catch my breath. I had thought about giving up halfway through, but I owed it to my poor feet to have that kind of exercise be for a reason.

Droplets of sweat were rolling down my forehead, disgust coiling in my stomach and that shower I’d taken earlier being nothing but a waste of time. My life truly was perfect, wasn’t it? Not.

The only door up here was, not, infact the only door. There were two doors, a set, that looked thick and had a strange mark on the front, a decoration of some sort but I wasn’t sure what it was of. Branding it in my mind, I lifted my hand to knock with the last surge of courage I’d got, only for the door to swing open.

There was a woman standing there. She was tall, way too tall, and I had to crane my head back to look at her face rather than her breasts that were in perfect view. She was pretty, if you were into the model type women. “Oh, I’m sorry darling. I didn’t know anyone was out here,” she said, quickly taking a step back so she wasn’t nearly standing on top of me anymore.

“It’s fine, really. I just came to see—“

“Harry, yes. Why else would you be here?” She asked with a soft smirk, eyebrow arching as she took in my appearance. “Well, I’m afraid he’s left. You just missed him, actually.”

“How? I was just on the stairs? He couldn’t have passed me.”

“Oh darling, Harry doesn’t do stairs.” She smirked again as she tossed her cherry red hair over her shoulder, an inside joke dancing in her green eyes. “Even if he...  _didn’t_  have other ways to travel, he would take the elevator.”

“Elevator?” What? Where?

“Yes. Elevator.” Peaking out the door, she pointed a finger with a long, red nail, obviously fake, at the pair of steel doors down the hallway. “There.”

Was she laughing at me, or was her face just permanently stuck in Bitch mode? “Right, right. Urm, do you know when he’ll be back?”

Sighing, like she was bored with this entire conversation, she leaned against the doorframe and studied her nails. “Not anytime soon, but I can tell you where to find him.”

I didn’t even bother asking where, because I knew if I opened my mouth something entirely different would come out. Scoffing at my silence, she stopped and rubbed a finger across her pink stained lips. “He’s at a bar—“

I listened as she gave the address, trying so hard not to focus on the pink blotch she had on her front teeth. When I’d gotten the information I needed, I turned around without a word and began my descent down the stairs. She was wearing high hills, and I highly doubted she was a stair girl and I refused to ride on the elevator with her.

Oh, my poor, poor legs.

—-

Finding the bar was easy, considering it’s one Leah had drug me to on my eighteenth birthday. She claimed it was better because it had a longer waiting list, and was nearly impossible to get into, but I preferred the more crowded bars. The ones where people just let go and allowed themselves to be free, rather that be in dancing or alcohol. She was also biased, though. Considering her husband owned the place.

“Hey, Tom.” I greeted the man at the door, completely ignoring the line of people that curled around the building and were held in place by a long, red rope.

The security guard was going to just ignore me, until he looked down and seen who it was. “Louis. What brings you here in uh... bugs bunny pajamas?”

Brushing my hands down my pajamas, I glared up at the man. Seriously? What was so wrong with my outfit? “I need to talk to someone inside. I know I look ridiculous, believe me, I feel it. But it’s important. So, please?” Despite his physical build and the automatic tough guy vibes you got off of him, he was a big softy. If you looked past the fact that he could snap you with his bare hands.

But if you pulled the right cards, it would work. A little pouty lip, soft eyes, and puppy dog like persona and he was putty in your hands. “Fine. But Rob asks, and ill deny ever seeing you.”

“As you should,” I said with a grin, giving him a little wink before I scurried through the door he held open. People groaned in annoyance, some yelling very unpleasant things. Which, I really didn’t understand. They knew their chance of getting in here. “Get some bunny pajamas, fuckers.” I yelled out the door before it closed, not missing the highly disappointed look on Tom’s face. But don’t let that fool you, he loves me.

The entrance was long and creepy, the hall almost pitch black save for the few lights hung on the ceiling, illuminating a soft yellow glow. The carpet was red, walls lined with pictures that vibrated the closer i got to the main floor.

Rob, my brother in law, may be a lot of things but a bad club owner was not one. He knew what people wanted, and gave it to them. Which is what made him so successful, and own one of the most popular bars in all of the UK.

At the end of the hallway was a arched entrywaay, which led me out onto a spiral staircase that went straight down to the dance floor. Red, yellow and purple strobe lights were flashing, syncing in beat with the song currently playing. People were dancing, no,  _gyrating_ on the dance floor, some pairs even extending to as much as three or four people. I almost felt like I was walking into a porno.

On the far wall, opposite of the stairs and right next to the dance floor, set a bar. The entire wall behind it was lined with alcohol, all fairly expensive and delicious looking as they set on their beds of glass.  _No, not happening._  I didn’t come here to get drunk.

Half of the bar was dark, untouched by the multi colored lights, a black curtain pulled down to hide it. I was thankful, because seeing those metal cages would draw up unwanted memories of the single night I’d drank here, the night I was finally legal to do everything I’d dreamed of doing. 

The ceiling was lit up, lights white and bright as they flashed and made the room seem bigger than it was, giving it a calm atmosphere even if the sacks of flesh, drunk beyond their limits, refused to believe so.

Ignoring the large sign with, “Devil’s Paradise,” written in big, bold letters that literally were lined with flashing lights, I walked over to the bar, fighting to get past the disgusting humans currently air fucking. From this point of view, I could see the entire room. Or rather, I wasn’t being shoved around by fornicating humans so I had a better chance at finding the man of the hour.

I just hoped I didn’t find him with his pants down around his ankles.

Song after song passed, drunken person after drunken person clung to me for support as they stumbled their way to the staircase, and I was very close to giving up. Until a sparkle of sorts caught my eye, which was odd because in a room full of flashing light, how did something so small capture my attention?

Everybody was so focused on the changing lights, the thumping music people timed with their grinds against their partners, that they didn’t see him. He was dressed in a black suit, light catching it and making the suit sparkle, appearing as if hundreds of shards of glass clung to the material. His brown curls hung around his shoulders, the flower crown I’d last seen missing. He was looking for someone, or something, and when I moved around a swaying body, green eyes found mine.

I’d been spotted.

And thank god, because I was tired of searching.

I wasn’t sure if it was a play on my eyes, or if I was just too wrapped up in his presence, but it seemed as if time slowed down as he began his walk towards me. The music became a low thump in the background, gravelly voice no longer belting lyrics I could barely understand. And the lights had all focused on him, though they shone white rather than multi color.

He scream confidence, arrogance. He knew who he was as a person, didn’t hesitate in his steps or slouch in his poster. He was graceful, movements fluid and precise, making him appear as if he was floating when I knew better, could see his feet like a blur across the flashing floor. He looked like a god, a beautifully composed god made up of everything that was right in this world. Even if he was a maniac.

He was alone, as far as I could tell, and his stare held me in place. I couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak. The crystal suddenly became very hot, not quite burning but enough that I was shook out of my daze. Pulling the chain from beneath my shirt, I held it up and away from my body as I used my other hand to slip it from around my neck.

“Wouldn’t do that,” Harry said, appearing by my side. “You do not know how hard it was to get that thing on you. It’s not easy breaking through another warlocks wards, especially one who has power like that.”

“Power like what? What are you talking about?” I was so tired of all the questions, and running around, and vague responses. I just wanted a solid Fucking answer, was that too much to ask? Or was he going to go all bitchy on me, too? Pretend I wasn’t another human being, but something of a lower level.

He turned to me in one fluid movement and tapped the tip of my nose. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Louis. Don’t lie.”

“The dream.”

“Bingo,” he mouthed, both eyebrows drawn up. He took a sip from the glass in his hand before setting it on the bar, where he then placed his arm. “I heard you’ve been searching for me. What is it you need? Was our rendezvous last week not enough to make you realize I’m not one you want to be around?”

“I’m not scared of you,” I find myself blurting before I could even think my words over. But I wasn’t scared of him, even if he wanted me to be. “I was looking for you because I need answers,” I said, quickly chancing the subject.

I didn’t forget what he’d just said about my dream, but pushed it to the back burner so I could focus on the more pressing matters. Like, “After I woke up from my dream, covered in slime, I found these,” I tugged the neck of my jumper down so he could see the burns around my neck. “I have one where the crystal is, too”

“Yes, and?” He, like the woman, looked bored and it infuriated me.

“Maybe you could stop being an arse and actually tell me what’s going on. Do you not realize I walked all the way across town just to find you, not to mention all those fucking stairs because I didn’t know about the goddamn elevator!” I didn’t mean to shout, didn’t mean to let my anger get away from me but there I was, looking like a lunatic as drunk people stared at me through blurry eyes. “Oh fuck off, will ya?”

Harry, obviously shocked by my sudden outburst, glanced around at the crowded room before he lifted two fingers and curled them towards his body. “Follow me,”

And it seemed I had no choice, because at the command, my legs began to move and I couldn’t stop them. I literally could not force them to stop moving, and I was almost positive it was because of Harry. “What did you do?”

“Not here.”

“Then whe—“ I was cut off when I was tugged through a doorway. Or not a doorway, but one of those things Harry called a portal. My stomach dropped as soon as we entered, and nausea followed as soon as we were deposited into a living room. “You seriously need to stop doing that.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Clapping his hands together, Harry gestured towards the tan leather couch as he walked past it and towards a table with an assortment of bottles. Humming, he let his finger tap each one before he finally decided on a small purple one. “Sit, please.”

Oh, so now he has manners? “Where are we?” I asked as I got up off my knees, honestly tired of falling so damn much.

“My loft,” he said with a hum, shaking the bottle in his hand.

“Seriously? We couldn’t have just met here in the first place?”

“Could have,” he said, “but you didn’t call, and I’m not a psychic. How was I supposed to know you’d show up here?”

Rather than answering him, I mimicked him silently and collapsed back on the couch, entire body sighing in relief. My legs were especially happy.

I let my eyes roam the room, slightly shocked to be in Harry’s apartment but it wasn’t the weirdest thing that’s happened to me. The living room was quite large, with two couches, a chair and many shelves and stands littering the open space. It wasn’t crowded, though. Which was odd, considering everything in here.

The wall to my left was entirely glass, two doors set in the middle that opened out onto a full length balcony that had a small table, chairs and a few others things sat on the concrete floor. The railing was black and spiraled, silver lining the bars that came down and closed off the area. I could only imagine how beautiful the view must be during sunset.

“The burns around your neck, they’re caused from Gerald’s magic,” he said, voice low. He sat next to me, keeping distance but even then the couch didn’t allow much space to be between us. “I warned you to wear it, and you do the exact opposite. Why?”

“Because I didn’t know some fucking crazy warlock would enter my dreams,” I said, as if it wasn’t obvious. Could he tell that I was lying? Or was the cock of his head simply because he was curious with my response?

“Yes, well, say what you will, but this wouldn’t have happened if you’d worn it. You’re the weakest when you’re asleep, the most vulnerable, and Gerald didn’t enter your dream. He hijacked it.” Harry twirled the bottle around in his fingers, acting as if what he was saying was totally normal and that this wasn’t some fucked up shit. Was this his normal Tuesday?

“Okay, whatever. Point is, I got burned after some man— wait, you were in the dream too, how?”

Harry suddenly looked uncomfortable as he shifted on the sofa. “Not important.”

“Is so. How did you enter it? Or even know?”

Rolling his head, he let it fall back against the sofa and groaned. “I’m the high warlock of London. When someone uses that kind of magic, I’m immediately notified. Not through message or anything, but it’s like a siren in my head. Tracking him was easy. I could smell the fear radiating off of you,” he sounded distant as he spoke, cold. “When I found you, or rather him, he was making you remember the day we’d met. He was trying to open you up by playing with your memories.”

I listened quietly, some of the pieces falling into place but there was still some gapes that needed to be filled. I could tell he was keeping something away from me, something important, but I didn’t want to press my luck. “And the man, with the blue light? Who was he?”

Harry looked at me, and for the first time I really felt like I was being seen. He was studying me, gauging my reaction to all I’ve just been told to try and see if I was having a mental break down before he continued. But he wouldn’t see anything. I was fine, for the time being. Nothing had caught up to me yet, all my emotions and responses muddled with... with...  _Harry._

He was all I could feel, or think about.

“It was,” pausing, Harry let his lips part ever so slowly as he exhaled, “me.” 


	3. It's Edith's

“You?” I asked, not trying to sound so shocked but due to lack of sleep, I was failing miserably. “You were the man? The one with the blue face? But... how?” How did he save me? How was it him who made me feel that warmth, that protection?

Harry was standing before I could stop him, and he was moving to rummage through the bottles on the table again. “Yes, me. I was the one who pulled you out of the water. If you could even call it that.”

“Impossible,” i argued. Harry seemed like a very capable man, but the person who had saved me was  _powerful_. I had felt his power in the dream, could tell there had been some resistance even then, and I didn’t get that same feeling now, in here, with Harry.

Rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, Harry threw a hand towards the wall and light appeared, the same blue. “My magic has a color, a specific one no other warlock has. Gerald’s was black, because he gave into his darkness and practiced dark magic rather than good. Mine is blue because of my power. My  _strength_.”

“Stop with the mind reading and talk to me!” I shouted, hands going to cover my forehead in a futile attempt at blocking him out. “If it was you, then—“

“You were wearing pink panties,” he cut me off, grinning behind his fingers he’d lifted to brush against his mouth. “And a ratty old t-shirt that had to be ten sizes too big. I grabbed your arm, and pulled you out, then I put your necklace on and forced you to wake up. And it wasn’t easy. It was quite draining, actually. But a thank you should suffice.”

“It wasn’t you,” I was sure of it. I knew how Harry felt, what his power was like, and the man in my dream wasn’t him. “I-I seen his face, or where one should have been. I felt him.”

He was standing in front of me with a simple blink of an eye, hands on my shoulders that held me as if I was going to fall apart. I looked up at him, silently questioning what he was doing, but in place of his face was that blue. That breathtaking blue. “Wake up,” he said it in the voice I had heard as he shook all common sense out of me.

I jumped back and fell over the back of the couch, hitting into a table that rattled at the impact, vials of things falling to the floor but before they fell, they were suddenly placed back in their place. “You-You. How?”

“Haven’t we already been over this?” Waving me off, he peeked over the edge of the couch to make sure I was there, before he held up the purple bottle he’d been holding and flicked it. Light flickered within the glass walls, illuminating the purple before it sizzled down into a warmer blue color. “The flangels, what was wrapped around your leg, have a nasty venom that can prove to be quite painful in twenty four hours, once it’s had time to set in. Take this all in one go, just before you go to bed when you return home.”

“Why? What is it?” I didn’t mean to sound so doubtful, but come on. It was a glowing vial. It couldn’t be safe to consume. “And who is Gerald?” Don’t know why I didn’t bother asking that before. Wasn’t that the main problem here?

“Is everything about questions with you?” Exhaling in irritation, Harry unscrewed the cap and placed a finger over the hole and tipped it upside down so the blue liquid coated his finger. Popping it in his mouth, he used his abnormally large free hand to screw the lid back on. “See, won’t hurt you. It’ll simply withdraw the venom, and will take the edge away while doing so. Not everyone is out to kill you, mundane.”

He was speaking around his finger, distracting me from not only the ache in my arse, but also my question, and I couldn’t breath. He was doing this intentionally, always had to do something with his mouth while in my presence because he had to know it affected me. Smirking, he pulled his finger out with a pop and winked.

“That-Thank you,” I whispered, not knowing why I was giving into him and saying what he’s been dying to hear, but it felt right. He deserved it, or so I believed. Even if he refused to answer the questions that would actually give me answers.

Giving a half smile in return, I swore I seen him incline his head just a little before he was tossing the bottle in my direction. Focused on catching it, I didn’t notice what followed the snap of his fingers, but I heard Harry say, “I like your pajamas, by the way,” before I looked up and the walls were disappearing around me. Harry stood in front of me, the only thing remaining unchanged as the walls stretched for days, and he gave a small, almost shy wave before he disappeared and I was left to sit alone in my apartment that suddenly felt far too empty and cold.

Why was he always doing that? Was I really that unpleasant to be around? Frowning, I looked around and noticed, through my cracked bedroom door, that my bed was made and the trail of goop I had left behind before, was gone.

Carefully standing, I held the bottle tightly in my fist as I cautiously approached the open door. Nobody was in there, but my bedding was changed and rather than my old, scratchy sheets, in their place was soft silk sheets, like the ones in that room only they were blue.

I ran a testing hand down them, curious to see if they were as soft as before, but they were softer, the coldness of my apartment sinking in between the material and making it ice cold to the touch, refreshing almost. Straightening up, I fought against my grin and lifted the bottle to look into when I heard crackling.

For some reason, I felt the need to hold my hand out and when I did, something flew past it and I somehow knew to close my fingers at the right time, entrapping the burning paper there. It was warm, edges burnt and smelling of fire but the middle remained unharmed, the white still perfectly clear with the black letters untouched.

_Sorry for the sudden departure, but I had things to do and you need your rest. Put the necklace on, and keep it on. It will keep you safe, regardless of your personal feelings towards it or me. I promise to answer any more questions you have, but call me next time. Here’s my personal number. 020-289-7251_

_With care, H._

_P.S. Such a waste of perfectly good panties, wouldn’t you agree? Check your drawer when you get the chance, and drink the contents in the bottle. I’ll be in touch._

Even in his letters, he was demanding, his presence strong in the room even if he wasn’t here. Looking around to assure I was correct and he wasn’t here, I bit my lip and eyed my dresser. What would be in it? My panties, which I had thrown out? Soiling all my other clothes? Or another bottle of mystery liquid?

Tossing the letter to my bed with the bottle, I took slow steps to my dresser, suddenly intimidated by it before I slid open my underwear drawer and found an exact replica of the underwear I’d been wearing, folded on the top with a little letter resting atop of them. “Don’t worry, I didn’t pay a penny. I made Gerald replace them. ;)”

Mortified that he had not only seen me in my panties, but had went as far as replacing them, I slammed the drawer shut and leaned against the dresser. Who the hell was this man, and what was with him? He was cold one second, then all too open the next? When we were finally getting somewhere, and he was finally getting comfortable in my presence, he was sending me packing without asking me beforehand.

Grabbing my cell phone from my pocket, thankful it had stayed within the confines of my fluffy pajamas, I typed in the number on the paper and opened the messaging app... That I could do nothing but stare at for ten minutes before finally working out the perfect text. “You really need to learn manners. I, despite falling every time I’m in your presence, was just coming around to accepting who you are, and began to actually enjoy your presence. Thank you, Harry. For everything, and do not think this dismisses any questions I still have.”

Pressing send, I watched in horror as it went through, eyes scanning the message I remember writing, but didn’t. It was like my fingers took over. Throwing the phone on the dresser, I backed away from it and fell back onto my bed, wishing the sheets would make me forget everything and just let me have some peace for a while.

My phone pinged not even a second later, and I would be too embarrassed to admit to anyone that I ran across my room to grab it and unlock it as quickly as I could.

“You say you enjoy my presence, yet you still do not believe who I am. Tread carefully, Mundane. All is not what it seems to be,”

What a way to be cryptic. Then, a second later, “Goodnight, Louis. Rest well.”

And I took that as his way of saying he no longer wanted to talk, but that didn’t stop me from obsessing over the messages until early hours of the morning, trying to read between the lines to see the message invisible to the untrained eye, but I never found it.

So, with the blue liquid running down my throat and coating my tongue, tasting of blueberries that had a slight tingle with the flavor, I went to bed. With Harry on my mind, and the crystal around my neck. Hoping to get some answers in the land of sleep, where the only place Harry seems to communicate with me.

——

The portal was just closing, dissolving into blue sparkles when the door opened and in came the woman I sensed as soon as she stepped into the building, her presence one you couldn’t ignore. She demanded to be felt, to be seen and respected. “I take it your little mundane found you? He seemed very adamant about seeing you. Was it another one of your charity cases?” She asked before she was in view, allowing the sparkles to completely disappear and erase any trace of Louis being here.

I wrote the fire message in record time, and threw it towards the wall where it disappeared into ash. Louis would get it, would feel the instructions on how to catch it, and I could have some peace of mind.

“Something like that,” I mumbled, knowing she could hear despite the distance between us. I was frozen, stuck staring through the ripple I’d just caused in time that allowed the travel no human could do. I couldn’t get his face out of my mind, couldn’t shake the way those blue eyes stared at me with complete and utter trust.

I was not to be trusted. I was a monster, a man born in the depths of hell before he was sent to earth to live out his eternal punishment. I was using him for something he needn’t know, something I always wanted. I couldn’t die, couldn’t age, couldn’t do anything but watch as everyone I love, everyone I’ve ever cared about, withers into nothing before me. Everyone but Chalice. The woman who had the unfortunate chance at meeting me, and later dying. Only to come back, with blood staining her tongue and fangs sinking into her bottom lip.

“Hectic little thing, no? I’m amazed I used to be one of them. Always in a rush to get somewhere, yet having no place to truly belong,” she helped herself to the table of alcohol, choosing to keep it simple and pour a glass of straight vodka. “Tell me. Was I as disheveled as that one? Did you ever catch me sneaking around in my night attire?”

I shook my head, her presence being enough to shake the image out of my head and bring me back to the present. Offering her a smile, I subtly flattened out my rug Louis had folded when he, not so gracefully, fell to his knees out of the portal. “No, I can’t say I did. Nor have I ever. But times have changed, Chali. Pajamas are what they’re all raving about, or those stretchy pants that far too many people abuse.” However, I quite liked his pajamas. It made him stand out, appear so unfazed by everyone and unbothered by the stares. He was brave, something I always longed to be.

“Leggings, dear. They’re called leggings.”

I shuddered at just the thought of them. I couldn’t see what was so amazing about the skin tight  _leggings_  that left little to the imagination, and I would rather be caught powerless than wearing those. “What brings you by?” I asked, turning the topic of conversation away from Louis. Even though he was a simple sensitive, -right- a mortal who was too clumsy and trusting for his own good, I wasn’t too keen on listening to someone talk bad about him, even if they weren’t direct disses. Chalice has always been like that. Leaning heavily on the soft feminine side, and playing her sweet bitch card. She could tell you that you were a bitch, or that she wanted you dead, and you’d still want to kiss the very ground she walks on.

“Ah,” she said, smacking her lips as she wiped the lipstick off the rim of her glass. “Those mortal little things that run around with kitchen knives—“

“Shadowhunters?”

“Yes, those. They’ve called a meeting with all downworlders, and I assumed you would know what it’s about?”

Ah, so the rumors Niall had been feeding me earlier tonight were true. Jenny and her husband weren’t talking out of their arses, and were truly afraid of our most recent discovery. “I do, yes,” being vague, I lifted a hand and didn’t even have to think about it before a glass of aged whiskey was placed in my hand, strong and just what I needed.

“And? Harry, dear. I’ve known you for centuries. Don’t keep out all the details now,” she was purring as she leaned forward and pushed her breasts forward, making them nearly pop out of their very small support system.

If I hadn’t got her out of my system centuries ago, I was sure that little trick would have worked on me. But, fortunately, I was immune to her and all her charms. Can’t say the same for the poor chap I used to be. “They’ve found him, the one the prophecies talk about it. The boy with the angel blood,” I lifted my hands, shaking them to show I wasn’t amused or worried, when the conversation had anxiety clawing at my chest. If she found who he was, she would hunt him down and murder him.

“All Shadowhunters have angel blood. What’s so special about this one?” She didn’t look good confused, I decided then when I seen her forehead wrinkled. And that vampire definitely did her a favor by freezing her age, denying her a chance to grow old.

Sitting on the couch, I crossed my legs and carefully balanced my glass on my knee. “Not just angel blood, Chalice.” I paused for affect. Did I tell her, or let her live in her fantasy world for a few more minutes? Let her leave my loft with the false belief that everything was fine, and that her world was safe. Should I let Jenny tell her, or steal the fun for myself? It could go one of two ways, and she was already in an off mood, so I knew exactly how she’d react when I admitted, in a soft voice, “Edith’s blood.”

The scream that followed would make any mundane go deaf, glass shatter in a normal loft, but with a simple thought that I extended, I kept everything as is and simply let her scream as loud as she wanted. “This can’t be true!” She scream, blindly swinging at a the table of alcohol and making everything fall off and shatter to the ground.

My poor, poor alcohol. She was upset, I know, but did she truly have to take it out on my liquid sanity? “It is,” I whispered. “But don’t you think you’re being a bit over dramatic?”

She scream at my question, moving faster than I could track her and she put a hand around my throat, knocking over the couch as she threw me against the wall and took her place standing before me, hand clenching my throat. “You know who it is! Tell me, so I can kill it before it finds out what it is.”

“I guess you can always one up yourself,” I gasped out, humored that even after all this time, she forgot who she was dealing with. _What_  I was capable of. But I suppose I could let her have a little fun. After all, there was no real danger. To me, at the very least.

“You’re so calm because it’s not your life that is threatened.” She said, going straight for assuming things and letting her anger blindly lead her head first into something she didn’t want to get involved with. “Who is he, Harry?”

She was strong, yes, but the strength of a vampire, even a five hundred year old vampire, did not match the strength of a warlock. I wedged a hand between our bodies, getting enough leverage to push her back. “Have you forgotten who I am? Who my father is!” The part I refused to let shine, was coming to light and playing with my voice, making it deeper and louder, projecting enough power and hatred to give me the advantage I want.

“My life is at as much stake as yours is, so do not make this all about you.”

“Rich, coming from a man who sits on his little cloud in the institute surrounded by our kinds sworn enemies.” She made to move, to use her speed against me, but I had a hand lifted before she could react, freezing her movement and chaining her with chains that glowed blue.

“And why is that? Because they kill the rogue downworlders? Because they protect the very things you despise? You’ve lost your humanity, Chalice. You’ve become everything I’ve sworn to destroy.”

I was unsure, she knew of that. Knew I couldn’t hurt the one person who has always been there for me, who would always be there for me. And she used it, used my love in a way she promised to never do. She broke free of the chains, shattering them into a million pieces of nothing more than iron chunks, and advanced towards me. She would kill me, there was no doubt about it, but I refused to tell her. She couldn’t know who the boy was, couldn’t kill him and take away the last bit of hope I had.

I was picked up by my throat and thrown, crashing into the wall and breaking a bookshelf. “And you refuse to lose yours. It makes you weak, Harry. Your fascination with humanity will be your downfall. Now, tell me who he is.”

Her nails were seeping into my flesh, brushing my heart and I didn’t stop her. I knew I couldn’t die, even if she ripped my heart out of my chest. I would wake up days later, memories a fog with a bloody headache as my brain tried remembering eight hundred years of memories. They would all get crammed into the tiny place, not a single thing forgotten. But I would take it all, endure the pain and a death that wasn’t permanent, if it meant I protected Louis from her. If he never found out the truth, until I had time to groom him, make him what I needed.

“No. Kill me if you must, but remember I will be back. And your death will stick a hell of a lot better than mine does.” This caught her attention, and she growled before shoving her hand forward and completely enclosing my heart, nails sinking into the soft flesh of my life support. The thing that still beat, despite the hell I’ve been through. The thing that would continue to beat, despite the betrayal.

“What does he mean to you? Why are you willing to risk your life to—“ she stopped talking, eyes widening when she seemed to figure out my little secret. “No, you can’t possibly do what I think you’re doing. You wouldn’t risk millions of life’s, that’s not you.”

“Oh, but it is. End my suffering, and the suffering of those around me? Make this world a better place with such a small sacrifice.” She knew my deepest want, knew what I craved, and it was easy for her to read the lines between my eyes and figure out the part of the story I refused to tell anyone. “You will not find him. The clave has him in custody— has shipped him off to live in an American institute until the time comes and he is called upon.” Lying was easy, especially for an immortal who had nothing better to do than master the humans odd ways. Even if I still didn’t completely grasp what they were all about.

Tears welled in her eyes, and the way she looked at me was almost painful. It was as if she was just now seeing the monster I truly was, and realization soon dawned on her pretty face. She couldn’t outrun me, couldn’t outrun the fate I’d chosen for us all. It was that look I was sure I would see last before darkness followed, and I just hoped to god that Louis was wearing the crystal, that the stupid mundane listened to me for once and put aside his stubbornness. I couldn’t have him taken away, couldn’t have my chance ripped from my fingers when I’d only now gotten it in my grasp.

But my heart was never ripped out of my chest. It was left within its confines, still beating its off rhythm song, and Chalice was gone. Blood was pouring out of the gaping hole in my chest, staining my shirt. “Glad it wasn’t my favorite,” I whispered hoarsely.

It was then that my phone vibrated, and I somehow knew who it was. I ignored the door left open, ignored the searing pain in my chest, the blood that was like hot lava tracing down my stomach, in favor of pulling out my phone.

The message had surprised me, leaving me speechless and unable to form a response for what seemed like an eternity. I wonder if he would know I was bleeding out in my loft, heart nearly torn out of my chest as I typed the response. Would I seem too cold? Too dismissive? Would he somehow find out I was using him, taking what he could give me without thinking about what would happen to him?

Sending what I thought to be a perfectly vague response, I quickly added a goodnight message to follow, eyes sliding shut as I focused. Just listened. I could hear, through the crystal, a steady heartbeat. He was wearing it, and he was safe.

Chalice, was not, and neither was my secret. I couldn’t have her running around telling the downworlders my plan. It would start a war, and Louis would realize who he was far sooner than I’d planned.

_Why did he have to turn down that alleyway?_


	4. Everyone has an end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to clarify that any mistakes made in this story, are mine and mine alone. I do not edit them before posting, like I know I should, and I do not have a beta/editor. So I apologize in advance. 
> 
> Also, another warning, I tried writing this while playing fetch with my cat, and he made it impossible to focus. So I am sorry if there are more mistakes than usual. Tiny paws, keyboard keys and tired eyes do not mix well together. XD
> 
> Whelp, I hope you enjoy!!

 

I found out Harry hadn’t been kidding about the flangel venom, and though the slight buzz I felt in my system from whatever he gave me helped take the edge off, it wasn’t enough. My muscles were getting torn to shreds, nerve ending sizzling into nothing as my entire body became trapped within the confines of their venom.

I couldn’t move without screaming, couldn’t open my eyes because the light was too bright, blinding me and taking away my vision. Sweat drenched my body, skin pale and the bites around my ankles were throbbing in time with my heartbeat.

I called out for Harry I didn’t know how many times, hoping he would come and help me but my small voice was of no help. I couldn’t speak without vomiting, couldn’t scream without crying. I found if I curled into a tight enough ball, I could trick myself into believing the pain wasn’t there and I was simply dreaming.

I don’t know what time it was, or how long I’d been like that, when I’d heard my front door swing open. “Louis, darling. Where are you?” The voice didn’t sound familiar at all. It was sweet, but cold, as the soft chords called my name in a taunting song.

I heard things moving in my living room, even through the closed door, but I couldn’t move. I was stuck, couldn’t react or call out to see who had entered my home. I was naive enough to think it was Harry, and he’d somehow masked his voice to surprise me. But when my bedroom door was kicked in, the entire frame splintering off into tiny shards, it wasn’t Harry who I seen but rather that woman I’d met at his loft. The pretty, but awfully bitchy, woman.

“Think you could hide from me, mundane? Did Harry truly believe I wouldn’t find out who his little savior was? I could smell your stench all over his clothes.” She took a step forward, tight leather pants squeaking when her legs brushed. “Harry has kept you well hidden. It was nearly impossible to track you, but even magic can’t hide the alluring scent of blood.”

She ran a finger down my bare leg, nail sharp enough that the simple brush had the skin splicing open, a sharp cry falling from my lips, and blood pooling out of the cut. She swiped her finger across my leg, collecting blood on the pad of her finger that she licked off in one fluid swipe of her tongue. “Mm, you’ve been tainted. Harry’s got his hands on you,” she said, teeth stained with red that became visible as a predatory grin stretched her lips.

I watched, horrified, as her fangs protruded and the only rational thing I could think of doing was grabbing the crystal I’d taken off and put beneath my pillow. It instantly felt like I was holding a ball of fire, bright blue light filtering through the cracks of my fingers. “Impossible,” she whispered, eyeing my hand. “You think that can stop me?” And I honestly did. Fear wavered her voice, widened her eyes and had her movements halting completely.

“What do you want?” I managed between gasped breaths, wanting nothing more than to be able to curl up in a ball and die, to have the ground open up and swallow me alive. The crystal seemed to call to my body, a soft whisper that licked at my palm and had little ants crawling up my arm, bringing relief to the pain there.

The woman grabbed each side of my bed frame and gripped, the wooden frame splintering and going through her hands, yet she didn’t even flinch. She picked the largest piece, stepping over the wood on the floor which seemed kind of pointless to me. Why not just take the wood you’d already broken, and spare the bed? “My life. The lives of those around me,  _Harry’s_  life. You’ve gotten him all confused, made him believe he can  _finally_  end all his suffering _,_ and I’m here to prove to him you’re nothing.”

With a skilled throw that I’d barely managed to see, the wooden spear was thrown at me. It would have embedded itself into my forehead, ending everything and bringing the death id been hoping for earlier but now, once again, feared. I said would, because rather than hitting the place she’d aimed, it froze inches away from my face, a blue dome surrounding my body and only the tip of the spear had entered.

It fell to my lap a second later, powerless now it didn’t have air behind it, and the woman growled. “Damn him. Take the crystal off and fight me! Let me show you how a mundane is supposed to die,” She bared her fangs to me, hissing as her tongue ran over the sharp points.

“What do you mean Harry’s life? I’ve done nothing to him, nothing to harm him or... or end his sufferi—“

“You truly don’t know?” Her green eyes widened once again, but was quickly replaced with anger. Rage. Hatred. She was a hard one to read, emotions so out of whack she couldn’t just focus on one and stick with it. Was she angry at me? Or was she rethinking this entire scene she caused? She clearly had a flare for the dramatic. “How naive are you to truly believe a warlock would spend time with a simple mundane? Harry isn’t with you because you’re so Fucking amazing,” cue the sarcasm and obvious disgust, “he is with you because—“

“Enough!” A man shouted, a man whose voice the crystal responded to in a way I would never understand. It shook in my grasp, trying to break free from my hand but my fingers clamped tighter around it, trying to keep it safe and it seemed to understand because seconds later, it was sending soothing pulses up my arm, almost as if it was being told what to do.

Harry stood in the doorway, looking utterly pissed off in bright pink suit with his usual flower crown resting in his hair, only now it was decorated with flowers that made a rainbow. It was hard to take him serious, until your eyes met the green ones, embers burning away in the depths of his pupils as the emerald flared brighter than I’d ever seen an eye, anger a dominant feature on his beautiful face. “I told you to leave the mundane alone, Chalice. And I meant it. He means no harm.”

“Means no harm! Harry! He can—“ the rest of her words were silent, a sudden muteness falling over my ears. I couldn’t hear anything besides a low hum whispering in my ears and when I looked up, Harry was staring at me so intently I was sure my skin would burst into flames. His lips were clamped shut, hands clasped in front of his body yet somehow, I knew it was him who was humming even before the soft, soothing voice in my head whispered,

“Sleep now, Louis. Everything will be alright. This is just a bad dream,” and for some reason, I believed him and listened as my eyes slowly slide close and everything went black.

—-

I had been having a relaxing evening at home, silently tending to Louis with every soft cry he made, even if I wasn’t there in person. A little wave there to ease the nausea, or a little brush there to keep the pain at bay. It was quite hard to focus on him while also trying to find the single book I’d found was missing from my vast collection, and somehow I’d slipped.

I’d stopped listening, stopped feeling and instead focused on the bindings of books that all mocked me. None of them were what I was looking for, none of them came close and they knew it. They knew who stole it, yet the pages between them wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to hear, only what they wanted me to. And damn it, I was tired of listening to their stories.

I threw my hands up in the air and everything came crashing down, shelf after shelf, book after book until there wasn’t an inch of floor around me that wasn’t covered by something. Another flick of my wrist and the entire glass wall was shattering, the blue ward I always had put up around my home bending around the glass before finally denying it’s passage. Almost like a rubber band, it snapped back and the glass was flying towards me. The ones that hit me, didn’t do the job I’d been hoping for.

It still wasn’t enough, even as red crimson ran down the inside of my thighs and cuts sliced my cheeks. I needed more, needed to make myself feel something for letting someone steal a book that was so valuable. They would pay, they all would fucking pay and all I had to do was thrust a hand downwards and the entire building would go crumpling to the ground. It was a start, albeit a fucking reckless and impulsive start.

I was tempted to do it, was actually readying myself until a sudden pulse came shooting out of my wall and slamming into my chest. It enclosed my body, made me see what I’d been so carelessly ignoring, and I watched as the sliver of wood went flying towards Louis. I couldn’t see the crystal, couldn’t feel it or him.

“NO!” My shout was enough to shatter the entire image, to make it crumple to the ground as I too, fell. But rather than meeting the floor, I was falling through a portal and landing on my feet with a silent thud outside Louis’ bedroom door, the call of the crystal now reaching me. I wasn’t about to lose everything because Chalice was too selfish to see the bigger picture.  _My_  bigger picture.

I caught the bunt end of what Louis said, had enough time to regain my composure and clean myself up with a simple brush of fingers through my hair, to listen to Chalice’s lashing words of desperation, and cut her off in time to keep anything from slipping out. I stole Louis’ hearing, hummed an old tune a person from my past used to hum to me, and told him it was a dream to clean up the mess she’d caused, to keep him from learning the truth she was speaking in fear I would lose my last chance.

Narrowly missing a shard of wood thrown at me, I jumped out of the way and rolled into the fall, using it to my advantage as I came to rest on my knees with wooden slivers digging into my skin. I brushed my hands together, a ball of light forming there before I thrust it outwards. Chalice tried to outrun it, but even she was no match for a pissed off warlock. “You should have left him alone, or killed me when you had the chance.”

She fought against the constraints that only grew tighter as she struggled against them. “You’ve gone insane, Harry! Your time with the humans has changed you, and you know it. You were born immortal for a reason, and some boy spoken about in a shadowhunters fantasy story isn’t going to change that.”

“Then why hunt him down in the first place, hm? Why try to kill me last night? You know everything spoken is true, and you fear the inevitable. But I will not let you ruin this for me.” I took a step forward with each word until I had her backed up against the wall, a finger digging into her chest but not yet breaking skin. “I will die, and you will not be the one to stop me.”

She went to speak, no doubt begging for forgiveness or asking that I rethink my decision, but before she had the chance to utter a word, I was cutting her off with a hand held hovering over her chest, magic sending sparks of blue off my fingertips. “You honestly thought I wouldn’t find out? You’ve allowed your anger to make you reckless. Just for threatening a human life, I should send you to the clave?”

“You have everything you could possibly want, and you’re willing to give it up for what? For death? Don’t be stupid, Harry. Think abou—“

“I’ve spent over eight hundred years thinking about it! Do you not remember all the times I’ve tried killing myself, hoping one of them would stick? I’m tired, Chi. I’m done living. There is nothing left for me,” a small grunt behind me would beg to differ, the boys mind calling to me even as he slept. But a simple infatuation over him was easily explained. He held the power to kill the unkillable. Any interest in him beyond that didn’t exist. Or so I tried convincing myself, a rather futile attempt.

The suffocating feeling began to creep into my lungs, tightening a hand around them as I twisted my hand and Chalice let out a whimper I would never forget, even in death. The portal behind her demanded to be used, was silently calling to me, and Chalice knew it. I didn’t allow myself to think about what I was going to do, knowing no matter how tempting the outcome would be, I would chicken out with the false sense of love taking it’s hold on me once again. “You have me,” she offered in a breath, hoping to once again use my feelings towards her in her favor.

“So I thought,” and with a final nudge, she was falling backwards through the portal and into a place she would never escape, a place no one else had access to. She would starve to death in there, with no one to keep her company but her own dying soul. I wanted to make her suffer, like she has done me for centuries. I had been too blind by the thought of her being the only other immortal i’d truly loved, to see it. She’d taken advantage of me all these years, and what did I have to prove for it? A few scars and some scattered memories?

_Welcome to my own personal take on Hell._

It closed off with a final gush of wind, carrying with it her cry for help. But I’d warned her, gave her plenty of chances, and she betrayed me. Love means nothing anymore, never has, and if she can not see what I see, or feel, then she is useless. I knew she would have some hesitation. She has always been afraid of death, though I was not going to let her fear change anything for me. I was afraid of living any longer, and nothing she said could change that.

But not even Chalice could change the way my stomach churned with guilt when I turned to face the boy in a deep sleep, curled up so tightly with peace smoothing out his soft face even with all the destruction around him. I know using him was wrong, and asking him to kill me would prove to be impossible, but this was what I wanted. What I always wanted. And a stupid tug in my heart wouldn’t change that.

—-

The morning greeted me a little gentler than the morning before, and rather than feeling like a pile of lead laced with pain, I was able to sit up and stretch out the limbs that ached like no other. The dream I’d had was a muddled memory, and I could remember bits of pieces of that red haired lady showing up and freaking out, but I couldn’t remember our conversation or what happened after Harry showed up.

Worried that it wasn’t in fact a dream, but another one of those weird things that had happened the other night, I clambered out of bed expecting to get a feet full of slivers only for my toes to curl into the soft carpet, no wood or anything similar digging into my feet. My door was in place, no longer broken and when I looked down at my leg, sure to see the cut there, there was nothing but smooth skin.

 _Huh_.

But something was bothering me. It was like something was prodding at the back of my mind, demanding to be remembered even if I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember it. I could still hear a faint humming noise, and the words that followed it was a soft song with missing lyrics. I could hear the smooth raspiness as a skilled tongue caressed the words, but they were missing. I couldn’t hear anything past the humming.

Checking beneath my pillow, I found my crystal was still there, safe and untouched. It lit up as soon as I touched it, almost as if it was greeting me. “Hello, lovely,” I whispered, running a careful finger down it. I still didn’t understand the importance of it, or why Harry demanded I wore it, but after my dream last night, I decided I wasn’t going anywhere without it. Who knows, it could have been a dream foretelling future events?

Kicking aside my slippers, I walked out of my bedroom, intending to take a shower, only to be greeted by Harry sitting at my dining room table. He looked so out of place amongst my cheap thrift store furniture, the missing chunks out of the wooden table suddenly embarrassing me even if they hadn’t before.

Yet, despite the obvious downgrade from his own loft, Harry looked so unbothered by it all as he stared out the tiny window above my sink. He was lost deep in thought, posture still agonizingly perfect and his hair was tied up in a sloppy bun, the flower crown from my dream missing. With his ears bared, I could now see the row of hoops he had in his cartlidge, a single butterfly earring hugging his earlobe. His neck was long with tanned skin smooth and pulled taut over his adams apple that bobbed as he swallowed.

“Shall I hold still for a little longer, or have you gawked enough?” He asked, voice shaking me out of my little admiring session. Cheeks burning, I ducked my head and shook it.

“Uh, no. Sorry, I was just uh--a little surprised to see you here?” I said it as more of a question, completely forgetting I was in just an oversized t-shirt and some short cut boxers. They’re actually the kind intended for women, but they’re far more comfortable then the one’s men buy. “You could have woke me. I wouldn’t have mind. My dream was a little strange anyway,”

The talk of my dream seemed to catch his attention, his head whipping in my direction fast enough I was sure it would fly off. “Your dream? Was it similar to the one from the other night?” he asked, something hidden so carefully in the depths of his orbs.

Shaking my head, I took a step forward, not missing the way Harry’s eyes scanned over my body but it had yet to click. “Um, no. I-- when I went to your loft, a woman with red hair answered your door. She was quite-- well, nevermind.” biting my lip, I rubbed at my eyes to hide my obvious dislike for the woman. “She was in it, the dream. You were, too. And she kept talking about how I was ruining your life or something. ‘Don’t know. It’s quite foggy.” perhaps I had already let the dream slip between the cracks in my fingers, getting lost in the crevices of my mind?

Not at all hiding the fact that he was more or less gawking at my half nude body, I realized my current attire and quickly bent forward to drag the end of the shirt down to my knees, only for the neck to pop open and reveal down it. “Shi-Uh, I’ll be right back. Let me hurry and change?”

“Oh, don’t change for my sake. I don’t mind,” grinning, Harry quirked an eyebrow and once again let his eyes scat over my body. “In fact, if you’re more comfortable nude, I would be entirely okay with that too. I would even join you, if you’d like. Clothes are too--”

He began to unbutton his light blue shirt, my eyes trained on how quickly he was able to get them undone. “No, Harry! I would much rather you not,” lies. It was a painful lie I wish I could take back now that I could see a peek of skin between the opened part of the shirt, but no. I couldn’t. Even if the lines of black ink I seen called to me, wanting to be discovered. “Just— stay here, fully clothed. I’ll be back.”

He looked utterly disappointed as his hands fell to his lap, but he gave a nod and turned back to the window. Blowing out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, I slowly backed up into my room before slamming the door shut behind me.

I knew I was pushing my luck by getting in the shower, but I felt disgusting with all the sweat from yesterday still a thin film over my skin, acting as hair gel for my greasy hair. I washed as quickly as I could, the bathroom filling with the sweet scent of vanilla and honey.

I got out and dried off in record time, only five minutes tucked beneath my belt. Leaving my hair alone for the time being, I opened my closet doors and grabbed the first things my hands touched.

I pulled them on without really seeing, the blue pair of “female” boxers I’d chosen hugging my arse. Leaving my hair to air dry, I simply combed through it before I did one spritz of cologne on my shirt and walked out of the room.

What I didn’t account for, was the complete horror that would be twisting Harry’s face when he seen my outfit. “No! No. I refuse to believe you are one of those people,” lifting a hand to block his vision of me, Harry gagged and pulled his hand down long enough to get another peek before he visibly shuddered. “Take it off, now.”

Only now taking in what I was wearing, I ran my hands down my lavender jumper and my black leggings. “What’s wrong with this?” I asked, dumbfounded. I honestly thought that I could pull leggings off, and looked good while doing so. Maybe it was the jumper? I often bought large ones, but Harry has seen me in one before? “Is it the jumper?”

“What? No! It’s the god awful things you call leggings. They’re not attractive, and so not sty—“ he cut off suddenly, and I didn’t know why because I had my back facing him as I turned to look at myself in the full body mirror propped against my wall in my bedroom. The lavender was so obviously my color, making my eyes pop and bold, while the leggings added a softer look to the entire outfit. My hair looked like hell, but when didn’t it? “On second thought,” he began, words sounding constricted, “wear whatever you’d like.”

Why the sudden change of heart? Turning to face him, I found he was staring at me rather than the window, like I’d assumed. His expression was unreadable, walls built of stone once again hiding those damned secrets in his eyes. “Okay,” I whispered, unsure of what else to say, afraid of I spoke too loudly I would break his concentration.

And like a curious puppy, far too innocent and good for this world, Harry tilted his head to the side and an almost shy smile stole his lips. “Okay,” the cockyness was gone, the demanding attitude and his inflated ego went flying out the window. For one second, and even if it was just for a second, I was certain I’d gotten a glimpse at the real Harry. The one who didn’t have to pretend, or hide. He was so heartbreakingly himself, that it was painful to watch as his eyes clouded over and he shook off whatever he’d been thinking. “Yes, well, now that I’ve commented on your poor choice of clothing, shall we discuss what I really came here for?”

“And that is?” Drawing out the ‘s’, I slowly approached the table and set on the side opposite of Harry, my short legs not quite reaching the floor.

Grinning, Harry did some weird hand gesture and two coffees appeared on the table, steam a steady transparency of tendrils above the cup. “Coffee, imported from France. Drink up,” he watched me intently as I picked up the cup and took a cautious sip. Coffee wasn’t something I was too fond of, and I can’t say I often enjoyed the taste, but this warm liquid had to be the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.

It added the richness of coffee, with the heavy creaminess of milk and there was a slight undertone of something nutty and sweet. “Good?”

I nodded far too fast, embarrassment sure to flare brightly on my cheeks if my hands and the cups were not shielding my face. My eyes were the only thing visible above the crook of my fingers, and I couldn’t help but grin when Harry did so, his smile full of pure pride.

“I came here to answer any more of the ridiculous questions you have for me,” he looked exasperated as he spoke, eyes doing very little to hide the annoyance.

But that wouldn’t stop my annoying, nosy ass.

“First, who is Gerald and why was he in my dream?”

I watched as his eyes scrunched ever so slightly as he carefully calculated his response. “He is a warlock whose speciality is dark magic,” he began, eyeing me above the rim of his cup, “the reason for his sudden fatuation with you is simple. You entered the room of the damned without dying, and he wanted to figure out why.”

I sensed the big “but” lingering in his unfinished thought, but I would bet my arse he wouldn’t finish it. “And he wants to figure that out why? What is the importance of that information?”

“With the information he got from you, or rather your soul, he could then use to enter the institute undetected whenever he so pleased.”

“What institute?”

He rolled his eyes, finger going to swipe at the corner of his lip where foam from the coffee rest. “My home since childhood, and the home of many others. It is the UK’s only institute, meaning all shadowhunters go there to learn how to fight before they either die or move on to a new institute to protect the humans. Until, well, until they all eventually die.”

He sounded bitter with the fact that they could die, and he could not. Was that something that he wanted? Death? “What about you? Will you eventually die?”

He looked angered by my question, but seemed to regain himself with a simple deep breath. His eyes had grown dark, though, hooded as he stared down at me. “Eventually. Everyone has an end.”

And that was the truth I hated, I feared. Death stares us all in the face, has his claws sunk deep even in those who wore their immortality suit. It was a chase he would always win, and he knew that. “What happened to Gerald?” A conversation changer was much needed. Anxiety already has a grip on my heart, and giving it anymore reason to tighten its hold was stupid.

He visibly relaxed at my question, no longer sitting on the edge of his seat, ready to leave if the occasion ever arised. “He was sent to the clave to be dealt with.”

“And that means what?”

He shrugged, turning away from me to lie, trying to keep the truth in his words even if he knew I could tell he was lying despite not seeing his eyes. “I don’t know. Each punishment differs.”

But he did know, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Was his punishment torture before death? Or would they just skip the punishment and kill him, all because he’d went after me? There was something Harry wasn’t telling me, something my dream from last night was trying to, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Right, so. Is that all you had to ask? Or was there more your little mind could come up with?”

He was taking the arsehole approach, figured if he was rude enough I would blow up and demand he left. But I could read him, knew his tricks even if I didn’t know him. “Actually, that’s only the beginning. You keep speaking of this institute, and these shadowhunters. What are they?”

He rolled his eyes and sagged back in the seat, shifting as he tried to adjust on the old wood until he brushed a hand over it, decidedly done with the uncomfortable thing, and it was changing into one of those rolling chairs, cushion thick. “You need to steer clear of furniture stores. You have awful taste.”

Testing the chair, he did a little bounce before his hand found the lever on the side. “What is this? I’ve never had—“ he cut off when he pulled it and the chair sunk down. “What in the world?” Pulling it again, his eyes brightened with genuine excitement and curiosity when the chair let out a whooshing noise and popped back up. “This is incredible. Why hadn’t I thought of this? Do you know how handy it would have been to have one of these back in the sixteen hundreds? The meetings then were always so boring, and half the time they expected us to sit on chairs made of dirt.” Something he was upset about, and disgusted with, all in one.

Him talking about his past seemed so usual to him, and not at all weird that he’d lived so long, had seen so much and done things people only ever dreamed of doing. I wanted to know more, get insight on what he had seen and who he had met. Was Abraham Lincoln truly honest, or was that all a lie? And Hitler? Was he like them, or worse? Was he a rogue creature, or a simple psychotic human?

And as much as i wished to ask them, now wasn’t the time. “Are you done judging my furniture? Or would you like me to show you the living room so you can critic the couch too?”

He perked up at the question, abandoning his own little amusement ride to stand. “Lead the way,” and he wasn’t kidding.

Groaning, I realized it was a waste of time to argue with him or deny him his request, so I walked over to the archway that led from the kitchen into the living room, and gestured for him to go in. He did just that, only to push me out of the way a second later. “There is a dead thing on the coffin you call a couch.” He shrieked, taking cover behind me even though he was the six foot, some odd inch warlock who had, not too long ago, fought a vampire and another warlock. Those are the only ones I knew about, too.

“What are you talking about?” Scared myself now, I crept closer to the couch and peeked over the edge, expecting to find a corpse decomposing there only to see Muffin, my cat, laying there asleep. “That’s my cat, you twat.”

I felt his hands on my shoulders as he looked over me to look at the cat. “That is not a cat, Louis. It is not fluffy and cute, and is that— is that it’s tongue, or a dead bird hanging out of its mouth?”

Alright, yes, muffin was a little rough around the edges but she’d been my cat since I was nine. Her white fur was now an ugly grey and patchy, nearly all of her teeth were missing and her one eye was a scarred, empty pit from when she’d gotten into that fight with Leah’s rat when she was a kitten. “It’s probably best if you just get rid of the entire set. Not only has the disease ridden thing gotten its filth all over it, but floral print was so thirty years ago.”

He patted my shoulder in what I was guessing was a comforting way. What the fuck was his problem? Whipping around to yell at him, the words died on my lips when I seen he was looking at the framed pictures on the wall by my front door, the longing in his eyes for a family, normalcy, or something I may not even know, was clouding his eyes.

How could I yell at something when, at times like this, he looked no different than an overly glamorized child? “Shadowhunters are descendants of angels. All are born within specific families, and all belong to one of the hundreds of angels. They dedicate their lives to fulfilling the angels wishes, and killing or capturing those rare shadowhunters who have went rogue, and the downworlders who have went against the clave.”

His finger found a picture of me, Leah, and my mum, black nail pausing on my face before it fell down to rest on the frame and he just stared. “Institutes, as i've already told you, are the shadowhunters more or less safe haven. Nobody can pass through the wards with demon blood, I being the exception. They start training as soon as they can walk, and once the clave deem them fit for duty, they send them off on their first case, rather it be a highly intelligent five year old, or a dim witted fifteen year old. They don’t discriminate, as long as you know how to hold a knife and are completely loyal to them.”

It sounded like a cult, to me at least. These people were supposed to blindly follow the words of their ancestors, without truly knowing if what they were doing, was what they wanted? Harry said killed, and I couldn’t see angels wanting death to be part of their wishes. “Why are you the exception? If you’ve gotten demon blood, how can they trust you if they’ve been taught not to their entire lives?”

He gave me a sad smile that reached his eyes that were no longer sparkling. “That, Biscuit, is easily answered,” he said, fixing the long sleeves of his shirt so they were rolled up to the elbows, “they don’t trust me. And neither should you.”

“You keep telling me that, or that all is not what it seems. What does that mean?” He was gone when I looked up, but he was still in my home. I could feel him, so when he leaned forward to whisper in my ear, I saved myself the embarrassment of squirming or screaming in surprise.

“Exactly what you think. Do. Not. Trust. Me.” Each word was carefully punctuated, his voice a low whisper in my ear that had his warm breath ghosting against the shell. He sounded so sure, the pain hidden beneath layers and layers of denial and cockiness that it was almost undetectable, unless you knew how to look past it and his need to be feared.

I didn’t have to turn around to know that he’d gone, and had once again left me alone, like he always did when we were finally reaching somewhere in our conversations.

I also didn’t need to look to know that a picture of me from graduation was missing, the blank space it’d left behind mirroring the exact way I felt inside.

Empty, vacant, missing the thing so carelessly taken from us. And, in some odd way, it was Harry who was to blame. He took the picture, and took all the answers I needed. My world was falling apart with each visit from him, and he was too blind by… by… I don’t know, to see it. To understand this wasn’t normal for me, and that the questions I was asking him weren’t silly to me.

I was trying to understand his world because I wanted to understand him, and it seemed as if he didn’t want to be understood. But if that was the case, then why did he keep coming back?

_Yet another question that’ll never be answered._


	5. He is mortal

There was a low buzz echoing within the confines of the walls, the edginess a small ripple that barely brushed the excitement. The shadowhunters were happy to finally call a truce with the downworlders, a truce their ancestors had tried to accomplish many, many times before. But they now had the power, planned on using Louis to strike a deal and if it wasn’t for the fact that I was using him too, I would call bullshit on their entire plan and unravel it.

Not that I wasn’t already.

Being the high warlock of London gave me the position I am at now, sat at a large oval table with empty chairs surrounding it, nobody yet arrived aside from me and Niall. He stood still behind me, unwavering even when Stephen, a vampire who I’m assuming was filling in for Chalice, came strolling in. He looked far too comfortable to be here, in the institute. He looked untouchable, and I couldn’t help but smirk. If only he knew my plan.

“Easy now, Niall. One would assume you were a statue rather than a nephilim.” I whispered to the man standing next to me, not looking but tilting my head in his direction. “Relax, all will go well.”

“And if it doesn’t,” he pressed, still not moving but he was no longer shooting daggers at the vampire approaching us.

Smirking up at him, I gave a little wink and twirled my finger, a stream of blue following the movement and creating a thin rope that fell to the floor and turned into a snake before combusting into a hundred blue sparkles. “Then you’ve got me. Your not so secret weapon.”

He relaxed a little at that, not noticeable unless you really paid attention. His shoulders were no longer drawn back, arms no longer folded across his chest with his fingers uncurled and inches away from his blade. “I’m here to fill in for Chalice,” Stephen said when he reached the table, eyes flickering to me for a second before they focused on Niall.

Was that a knowing look, or a simple glance? “Why is that? Shouldn’t the clan leader be the one attending, and not some pawn of hers?” Ooo, Niall was getting frisky. Time for the fun to start.

Stephen scoffed and leaned forward, hands splayed on the table to support his weight. “The clan leader  _is_ attending. Chalice has disappeared without a trace. Even her sired no longer feel her, so we’ve all assumed karma has caught up with her and she bit the dust.”

“Oh? Is that true, Harry?” Niall asked, looking at me and of course I would be the first person they turned to. Being the best friend of the immortal psycho for years and all.

“I haven’t spoken to her since the night you were over. We had a disagreement, and she left. I had no idea she was... that someone killed her.” Playing heavily into the heartbroken sap, I didn’t realize tears had collected in my eyes until Niall cleared his throat and offered me a handkerchief the emotional block always kept on him. But perhaps I wasn’t playing? The emotions felt real. The rawness of betrayal was closing my throat off and tightening my chest, my heart stuttering as everything came crashing over me.

Chalice may have betrayed me, but you can only try so hard to erase all those centuries. I have tried, kept a tight lid on the bottle and hadn’t thought about it all night, yet a stupid vampire was able to unscrew the entire damn cap with a simple assumption that she was dead? Was she better off that way? Should I end her misery now, rather than make her wait?

Stephen could read between the lines, however, and when he looked at me I knew he wasn’t judging, but rather thanking. I had given him what he wanted, he knew I was the one who had taken Chalice out and he wouldn’t tell anybody. He knew what was at stake, but what he didn’t know was that he would only be living the “life” for a few short months.

All hairs on my body suddenly stood to attention, skin prickling and I didn’t have to look up to know who was walking through the door to the secluded room in the institute. “Well hello, Marie.” I said, both Niall and Stephen giving me odd looks until they heard the light tap of high heels. She had been silent before, but now that she had been called out she was demanding to be known.

“Harry, dear. Lovely to see you here,” the woman said in greeting, faker than the poor girls appearance she now wore. She was a strange one, used the magic from her realm to change her appearance. She looked different every other day, had a new skin for every day of the week, but her presence never changed and her magic was something I could always sense.

Today, she looked no older than twelve. She had on a light green dress clearly made out of leaves, with a crown resting on her head made of branches and flowers and I kind of felt cheated. Sure, I may not be wearing one now, but who did they think created flower crowns and had dared wear one when he was a male? Without me, she wouldn’t look so absurdly good and her head would be just another boring mop of brown strands.

I smiled, despite our differences, and held a hand up to flutter fingers in a small wave. Yes, I hated her, and have since I first laid eyes on her four hundred and some odd years ago. Her mother had died a tragic death, all thanks to Marie, and she had taken the roll as the queen. The one good thing about her was that she could not lie, her kind were not engineered that way. But you didn’t have to lie in order to not tell the whole truth, and she was smart enough to find the loophole in her biology. She may not be able to lie, no, but the Seelie queen definitely didn’t always tell the truth.

“I wish I could say the same. It seems you’re murdering my prized invention. Did nobody tell you that with your ears, a crown was a big no-no,” bickering between the two of us was the usual, and half the time she thought I was kidding but I never was. The queen was a spoiled brat who had everything handed to her as a child, and she has not once ever got her hands stained with the blood from the wars she has started.

She pursed her lips and held up a hand to stop Lex, the newest member to her realm. He was her guard, she always had at least five with her when she dared leave her throne, but looking now there was something else in the way her eyes lingered on him. A love connection, perhaps? Shuddering, I tried not to imagine what kind of man would sleep with a woman who, at any minute, could go from being a full grown woman to a giggling toddler. And based on her track record, she was not above doing something like that. “I see nobody told you that long hair does nothing to flatter that adorable face of yours.”

“Alright, enough you two,” Niall interjected, having my back when I never asked him to and I felt oddly thrilled by the idea I could trust him. Did he trust me? Did I want him to? “This isn’t a diva off between the two of you. We came here to discuss matters of the clave and the underworld. Now, sit down and play nice while we wait for Michael and Noah.”

Oh god, those two creatures? Michael was the typical wolf who couldn’t control his anger no matter how hard he tried, and he always wolfed out at the wrong times. Noah was a demon, an old friend of mine if you could even call him that. He was the most decent demon there was, but even then he was a foul and could not be trusted. He was a few centuries younger than me, but always acted as if he was an old soul when he was, in fact, lacking said soul. He’d killed me once upon a time over some rogue vampire he’d became attracted to and I was trying to kill. It had surprised him when I came back from the dead a few days later, and he wised up and made a truce with me.

Still hated him though, for teasing me with something I couldn’t have. Not to mention the fucking ache in the back of my neck I got randomly, a ghost pain in remembrance of when he’d cut and severed my spinal cord. But the past was the past, yeah? It was him forever stuck in an uneven jawed jocks body, and I would forever be blessed with my beautiful self. It was him that got the Shit end of the stick, if you ask me.

“Ah, yes. It isn’t a party until we have a feral dog and soulless idiot.” I hadn’t realized the words were spoken out loud until Niall slapped my arm and Stephan agreed with a snort. “Don’t fret, young nephilim. I will not cause a scene. You have my word.”

Locking my lips, I threw the key over my shoulder and made a point of adding a few stitches that didn’t hurt, but were very much real and kept my mouth from opening. Literally. A warlock stuck in a room he didn’t want to be in, was asking for reckless stupidity like this.

Niall shook his head, even added a sigh and a roll of his eyes. But this, and not even this, would guarantee my silence. I never got asked to speak, just to attend and nod like the good little puppet I was. Then again, when was I ever a rule follower?

Not impressed by the direction of their conversation, which was still lingering on Noah and Michael, I closed my eyes and focused. Listened. Reaching out for the heartbeat I found seconds later, strong and steady. Pressing a little further, and listening beyond the flow of his blood and the beat of his heart, I heard the low rasp of his voice as he sang something.

_I'm trying to save us, you don't wanna save us_

_You blame human nature, and say it's unkind_

_Let's make up our own minds, we've got our whole lives_

_Let's see and decide, decide_

I haven’t heard this song before, nor have I heard a voice with such raw emotion even if he didn’t relate to the lyrics. He spoke the truth in the song, brought the emotions to it and his voice was so painfully small it made my heart clench. Was there someone who broke his heart? Someone I had missed when I... wait, I’d never thought about his sexual life. Did he have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? How the fuck had I never thought of this before?

But nothing in his life led me to believe that he had a... well, life. He was a recluse, hung out with nobody and only ever left his loft to go to classes or his job which was at the Library. I was certain I would know if there was someone else in the picture. And if there was, well, that wouldn’t work out. Louis had to stay focused.

_On what? The plan he knows nothing of?_

I was drawn out of the fight with myself by his voice that was calling to me through the crystal. He began to sing again, the lyrics much louder now with the soft clinking of what sounded like piano keys playing in the background. The song drew together with his breath, breathing life into the lyrics and wrapping around my body like a warm blanket.

_And I will still be here, stargazing_

_I'll still look up, look up_

_Look up for lo—_

He suddenly stopped and I could sense movement of some kind, almost like he was looking around before he grabbed the crystal and whispered, “ _Harry_?”

“Oh shit.” The shock from being called out when I was being a creeper and peeping, had me jerking back enough that my chair was going with me and we were tipping backwards. Only for Niall to place a hand by my armpit and push the chair back up.

“Oh shit what? And what happened to your mouth being sewn shut?” Ohhh, I’d been speaking out loud. Lovely.

“I left the kettle on at home,” I offered with a sweet smile, hoping he would take the bait and bite but with a pointed look, I knew I would be thoroughly questioned when this meeting was done with. “And silence can only be bought for so long. I’m sure you’ve enjoyed your three minutes without me speaking.”

“Can you add three more?” Stephen piped up, earning him a glare from not only me but Niall too.

“Perhaps he can do us all a favor and sew yours sh-“ Niall cut off abruptly when Jenny, his mother, and Edmond, his father, walked in. Both were moving with grace, footsteps carefully calculated to assure they didn’t stumble and fall.

Jenny had on a tan dress that reached her calves and was sleeveless, showing off all the runes that decorated her body and I found a hard time keeping up with despite my personal knowledge of them. Edmond wore a simple black suit, made of cheap material that he must have drug out of his closet for this occasion. Both walked with the knowledge that they were important, untouchable while in the protection of these walls, and with the false sense that they were gods. Which they were not. They were Nephilims with large egos.

“Are we ready to start?” Jenny asked, her voice honey smooth. She was usually a bitch who was hard to deal with and get along with, but today she seemed well put together, probably for the sake of everyone else.

“Just waiting on-“ I stopped talking when I noticed both Michael and Noah were already set at the table, on the side of me with Marie sat next to them, and Stephan next to her. Three chairs were left unoccupied, and the people meant to occupy them chose the rather stand and hover. “Yes, we’re ready.”

“Good.” Smiling, Jenny pulled out her own chair, glaring at her clueless husband while doing so, and sat down. Smoothing out her dress, she gestured for Niall and Edmond sit. “We have called you here in hopes of making a truce. We have discovered a rather valuable weapon that the clave is willing to lock away, if we can all come to an agreement.” Straight to the point, then.

Jenny left out the fact that the clave wasn’t going to lock him up, but rather keep him in the dark about his gifts until the day they decided they weren’t interested in dealing with downworlders any longer. I had plans of my own, however, but decided to amuse them all and show up.

“The boy with Edith’s blood?” Michael asked, shifting uncomfortably as soon as he spoke the words. A silence filled the room, the breathes from each person the only thing to be heard. It allowed the name to sink in, the realization that all would be lost if they couldn’t make things work.

“Correct.” She said.

“What kind of agreement are you looking to make?” Stephan asked, fingers caressing his chin as his elbow rest propped on the table. He looked as bored as I felt.

Clearing her throat, Jenny stiffened up and looked at me before she looked at Stephan. “We are hoping to work alongside the downworlders, rather than against. Our kind have killed and hunted your kind for centuries, and we only ever want to harm or capture the ones doing wrong.” She paused for effect, such a Jenny thing to do. “If we had your cooperation, our world would be a much better place and the mundanes would no longer have to worry about being threatened.”

“And what happens if we do not agree to the arrangement?” Marie asked, her fingers tugging at petals off of her flower crown.

“Then we all get turned into toast,” I added, trying to help but the numerous glares I got proved that I was doing the opposite. “Listen,” I said with a roll of my eyes, displeased that I even had to play into this. “You have all heard of the boy born with Edith’s blood from the prophecies the Nephilims have. It has been passed down from generation to generation, and our kind has lived in fear, dreading the day the stories came true.

“Now, we can all disagree and leave, and later be turned into French fries because we pissed off the clave, or we suck up our personal feelings and dismiss this ridiculous feud. The Nephilims only kill those of us who have turned and went rogue. Why risk all of our lives trying to protect those of us who risk exposing us to the mundanes?” My words brought silence, each person digesting what I’d said.

“Say I play into your little game, and agree to this silly little arrangement,” Marie began, folding her hands in her lap as she leaned back. Even in such a bland room, she still looked like the queen she knew she was. “What happens a few hundred years from now, when your kind grows tired of our truce and they just decide to kill us all?”

“The prophecies only speak of on-“ Jenny began, only to be cut off by Marie.

“I’ve read the prophecies!” Marie shouted, hand slamming down on the table. “There is to be one boy born from Edith’s blood every few hundred years, until they fulfill their destiny or the last of their bloodline dies, so do not lie to me, Jennifer. You’ve all been too stupid to look for the rest, and I’m actually quite surprised you’ve found this one.” Ooo, she’s been called out on her lies.

Jenny did not look happy at all, her teeth visibly and audibly grinding as she fought to hold herself back. “The prophecies speak of one boy, and one boy alone. They do not say anything about the continuation of his bloodline, nor what happens in the event that he dies before fulfilling his role.”

“Can it even die?” Noah piped up, and I had forgotten he was here. Good little demons been as quiet as a church mouse.

“Oh, yes. He can die.” I said, not realizing I was speaking until the words had already been spoken, leaving everyone staring at me. “What I mean is he  _is_  mortal.”  _So not helping_.

Marie grinned at this newfound information and leaned forward, mischievousness glimmering in her dark eyes. “How long did you plan on using this boy for, Jennifer? Did your kind not think of how powerless you will be again when he dies? Or what will happen when the downworlders realize your one weapon that can destroy all of us, is in fact mortal?”

I was so not getting any sleep tonight. I would have every goddamn shadow hunter, and downworlder pounding on my door, demanding information about this angel boy everyone is speaking about. But I might as well enjoy the show.

Spreading my legs, I did a quick glance up to make sure no one was watching before I moved my hand over the bare wood and a small bucket of popcorn appeared. I would be insane to not enjoy such a delicious snack while watching such a hilarious scene unfold.

“What Harry failed to mention is he will only die in the event that he activates the flaming sword of Edom. He is not immortal, but he will not age past a certain age until he has fulfilled the prophecy, or he has been killed.” Jenny said, and I froze.

I didn’t know this. I didn’t know that if Louis activated the sword, his life would be taken too. That he would die right along side me and a million other people. I wish I could say this didn’t change things, but it did. I may want to die, and would do anything to get what I want, but killing an innocent soul is not something I would willingly do. I have killed many, yes, but only the souls already damned to hell. And I was willing to help kill so many more, but only the souls that were already tainted, too far gone to be helped.

Louis.. he was pure, innocent, too good for this fucked up world and he deserved much better than this. To be used as a pawn, as a threat so carelessly thrown around so people could gain what they wanted, not what was best for them.

The room was suddenly too hot and crowded, and I needed space. The walls were closing in, yet were too far out of reach, and when I stood I knocked over my secret bucket of popcorn and every set of eyes were on me as kernels scattered across the floor. “Harry? Are you alright?”

“Yes I um- I’m fine. I just need to— I have a meeting with a client at five, and I can not miss it otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it,” I didn’t look at any of them as I lied, knowing my glamour was glitching as I allowed my emotions to run rampant throughout my body. “As the High Warlock of London, you have mine, as well as all other warlocks in this vicinities, word to uphold our end of the agreement, and to give you our full cooperation.”

And with that said, I left. I didn’t bother with a portal, but rather walked around the table and all but ran down the lengthy corridor, all too ready to leave. Everything was different now, everything I’ve ever wanted was once again out of reach and I needed one reason. One small reason to go through with this, just a small justification. I had to find out something bad Louis did, and I knew I would be waiting forever.

He was innocent, like I’d said before. And not a single sin was ruffling the hair on his pretty little head.

So, in Niall’s words, l was fucked. 


	6. Shall I still hide the knives and pitchforks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A//N: Alright, alright, alright. When I set out to write this chapter, this is not at all what I had in mind. Not that it's bad, it was just unexpected and I hope you guys enjoy it. I had planned on doing what happens in this chapter, a few chapters down the road, but it felt right to have it happen right now, and I hope I won't regret it. I have yet to read through it and proof read, mostly because I'm afraid I will change some events that happen, but... yeah! Just let me know your thoughts?? I truly appreciate and love every single comment I get, even if I'm a little late to respond.
> 
> Also, I kind of steered away from all the vampires and crap, and made this chapter more about Harry and Louis. Just them, mostly.
> 
> Haha. Oops (Hi) Carry on!!!

If I was ever to be caught hanging around a bar, drunk off my arse while begging for men to take me home, I would demand to be killed right there on the spot. But tonight wasn’t about me dying, or the fact that desperation was oozing out of my pores like sweat. It was about letting go and having fun, forgetting the world I’d been drug into at birth, and the world I’d only recently discovered existed.   
  
I wanted to forget everything, and each glass that I drained help me achieve my goal as this light fuzziness filled my body and I was left floating across the dance floor. I felt carefree, something that rarely happened. I was always obsessing over something or another, and the alcohol helped silence the streams of thoughts that were like fierce mantras beating away within my skull.

Silk and leather clad bodies danced on the floor, in sync to the music as a light fog filtered across the dance floor. Some appeared as if they were ghosts, a memory of another person, and I swear I’d seen my own share of ghosts as I spun in circles, getting myself dizzy while also making myself believe I was free. It was a flicker of green eyes here, or the back of a head with long curls there, and I swear I could hear him calling my name but when I focused past the music, I couldn’t hear anything but the wild beat of my heart.

  
Drink after drink, song after song, I became oblivious to my surroundings and just let my feet guide the way, allowing the lights to call me like a siren and direct me towards my destination. I soon forgot the reason for my night out, yet those green eyes were still branded in my memory even if I couldn’t put a face or name to them.“Louis, love, shouldn’t you slow down? You’re on your fifth tequila shot, and god knows how many pina coladas. Come sit, take a break with me? Sober up a bit.” Leah asked, her voice a faint whisper barely heard above the thumping of the music.  
  
My brain was cottony, white rimming my vision and the world was tilting when I dared hold still for longer than a second. “I-I’m fiiine,” the slur would indicate otherwise, and I was powerless to stop the hand gripping my arm.   
  
“You are not fine. Now sit, and drink this water,” Leah said, sounding an awful lot like our mum as she thrust a cold water bottle towards my face,  _after_  she’d pushed me to sit down in an uncomfortable booth.

  
Hiccuping, I saluted her with a lead arm and took the offered drink. “Yes mum,” I didn’t intend to open the water, but a pulsing from the crystal caught my attention and I was suddenly compelled to drink the chilled drink. The cap, however, was a bitch and refused to be taken off, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why my pants were getting wet. “Leah, open my water bottle and make it stop raining,” I whined, offering her the water bottle that felt oddly lighter, but wasn’t a worry.   
  
Leah sighed heavily. “It’s already open, you idiot. Quite spilling it on yourself.” Truth be told, she was to be the one who took all the blame for tonight. She knew I was a light weight, and got extremely stupid and giggly when drunk, yet she still insisted I come.   
  
“You know who wouldn’t talk to me like that?” I asked as I took a sloppy sip from the water bottle, the liquid sneaking past the seam of my lip and trailing down my chin before it fell to my shirt. “Harry. He wouldn’t talk to me like that. I mean, he would call me an idiot and boss me around but he’s nicer when he does it,” I wiped my chin off with the back of my hand, not sure if my slurred words made any sense once they left my mouth.   
  
Leah scoffed and let her head fall to the table, rolling it from side to side and making her blonde ponytail fall off to the side and rest against her neck. “Dear god, Lou. I thought we were done with this Harry Potter kick and you stopped believing in wizards and all that nonsense.”   
  
Suddenly hurt, I slammed the water down on the table, not realizing I had been squeezing it. The plastic formed around my fingers before crushing inwards, resulting in the water shooting up and out of the top, splattering all over the table and splashing on both me and Leah. “They’re real, Leah. And I’m not talking about Harry Potter.”   
  
The crystal flared at my words, burning me yet not causing harm. Just warning. Hissing, i looked down and pulled my shirt open to see down it. The crystal was bright in the darkness, safely sat resting against my chest where a mark was meant to be, if the stupid warlock hadn’t meddled in it. “Yes, and I suppose vampires and werewolves are real too? Grow up, Louis. And drink your damn water.” She growled as she stood, hand slamming down on the table and sending droplets of water flying in each and every direction.   
  
I jumped, but didn’t get to say anything further because she was turning and leaving, disappearing in the crowd of people and leaving me alone at the secluded booth at the back of the bar. I was telling her the truth, and she refused to believe it. Was I once that naive? Or was she just refusing the believe what wasn’t staring her directly in the face? I would try and get proof of Harry using his fairy godmother spells, but I wasn’t ready to turn into a pile of soup and I was sure Leah and Mum weren’t either.   
  
Swatting my water bottle away like a child, I grinned when it fell over and finished draining out onto the floor beneath the table. Childish, yes. Pleasing? Even more so. But it wasn’t enough. I needed to dance, or hit something or just go out in a field and scream as loud as I could, for as long as I wanted.  
  
Alright, alright, I may be a little pissed off. Harry hadn’t spoken to me in a week, and despite the numerous messages I’d sent him, he never responded. I’d tried going to his loft too, much more willing now that I knew of the elevator, but he refused to answer the door even on the days that I did hear things moving from inside. It hurt, to know even someone who I thought understood me, was now rejecting me. I had foolishly trusted him, when he had told me many times not to.   
  
I, at first, thought that maybe he was busy doing something else, but even on the days that he was busy or said he was, he always found time to answer my texts or return my calls. Sighing, I balled my hand into a fist and dug it into the side of my cheek before propping my elbow on the table. My eyes slid close, the thumping of the walls and the vibration of the table soon lulling me into a light sleep where the music couldn’t reach me and my problems didn’t matter.   
  
Until my elbow slipped in the water and my head came slamming down on the hard table. Groaning, I rubbed at the knot already forming between my eyebrows and looked up to see if anyone had seen, only to spot the pair of familiar green eyes watching me from the upstairs level of the bar.   
  
It was a secluded area, and only people of utmost importance were granted access. That, or if your sister happened to be boinking the owner of the bar, then you had access to whatever you wanted.   
  
My chest tightened when I realized it was him, not just some look alike. Those eyes could not be faked. He was staring at me, and I didn’t know if he’d realized he’d been caught or not, until the corner of his lip quirked up. He was smirking at me, but for what reason? Because he knew, up there, he was out of reach and I couldn’t get to him before he portalled his way to fucking New York? Or because he enjoyed taunting me? Always in sight, but never in reach.  
  
Flipping him off, and my buzz no longer as strong as before, I stood on unsteady legs and pushed my way through the crowd. Rather than going towards the staircase that would lead to the main hallway, I ducked beneath the counter at the bar and quickly slipped inside the door set off to the side of the wall full of alcohol. It lead to the storage room, which had a back door for deliveries.   
  
I didn’t know if he was following me or not, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even care if Leah freaked out when she found the booth empty and my precious water had been dumped out. I was done with everything, mortal or immortal.   
  
The back door led out into an alleyway, pitch black aside from the large moon hanging over the buildings, providing enough light to make a few shapes and shadows come to life. Ducking head, I pulled my jacket tighter around me and zipped it up, the sound far too loud and oddly reminding me of the last time I’d been in an alleyway alone.

  
“Didn’t I tell you to steer clear of alleyways?” Someone asked from behind me, and I knew that voice but I didn’t want to. My skin prickled with awareness. I could feel him, his magic sending calming waves towards me but I didn’t feel calm. It was just licking my skin, trying to sneak beneath but the crystal flared brightly and fought against him. He said it protected me, and now it was protecting me from him.   
  
Rather than stopping, I continued on my way, my pace quickening. He was drawing near, his breath practically ghosting down my neck as a memory of his body became perfectly vivid in my mind as it pressed up against me, demanding for me to feel how strong he truly was. “Clearly I don’t listen to you, because I trusted you when you told me I shouldn’t and look who got fucked over both times around?”   
  
“Is this because of my week long absence?” He asked, and when I didn’t responded I heard him hum. “Would you at least stop to let me explain? Or are you going to continue on with stomping away like a pissed off child?”   
  
Stopping dead in my tracks, I spun around only to stumble back when I found he was a lot closer than I expected. He didn’t look fazed at all, his green eyes scrunching to see me better in the dark my eyes had already adjusted to. He didn’t look different, nor did he look harmed. He was just... Harry. A frustrating creature who insisted on not being trusted. Was this just a game to him? “I have a right to act like a pissed off child, Harry! You left without so much as a reason, and refused to let me know you were okay or to even give me a reason why. So sorry if you don’t like the way I’m acting, but we can’t all be as perfect as you.” I was yelling, the anger coming out in my voice as I lifted a hand to slap him but thought better of it and instead let it fall to his chest, where my fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket.   
  
He looked stunned by my outburst, or so I thought. But when those wide green eyes looked down at where my hand was, I quickly pulled away and stumbled back, seeing it was me touching him that had caught him off guard. Did he not like being touched? “S-Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” But I did, and I wanted to. My fingers tingled where they’d touched him, flexing to feel the hard chest beneath them again but they were grasping at air, finding nothing to anchor them to the feeling.   
  
Rather than responding immediately, Harry simply folded the lapel back down before he looked down at his black shoes. “You have every right to be upset, but try and understand why I did it. I was overwhelmed, and not just with you but everything that’s- just everything at the institute.”  
  
“Yet I bet you still made sure your arse showed up there everyday.”   
  
“Actually,” he said with a lazy smirk, “I haven’t been since last Friday.” And of course he would need to correct me when that so wasn’t even the point. Even if I had lost what the original point was.   
  
Pausing when I’d opened my mouth to retort back, I let the words sink in and gave my muddled brain a chance to digest them. Was he playing me? Or was he being sincere and telling the truth for once? Perhaps I was overreacting, but when death followed him like a black cloud of suffocating gas, it was hard to see whether the sun was the beckon of light or if the moon was what was truly calling to him. Did he answer to either? Or neither? “Why? You were at your loft, and do not try to deny it. I heard you in there.” I had a feeling he answered to no one, no matter how much he let them believe he did. And that’s what was terrifying. A man left on his own is reckless, and I know Harry is immortal but even immortals can die. He could have  _died_  and I wouldn’t have known or had any reason to be upset. He was just a warlock I’d stumbled upon, after all.

  
“Once again, I’m afraid you’re wrong. A friend of mine was staying over to house watch while I was away, and he was instructed to not answer my door.”   
  
“Then where were you?”   
  
“Japan,” he said as he looked away, breath creating a small cloud of fog around his lips.He looked thoughtful as he considered what he said next, stuttering a few times as he tried to find where to begin. “I know nobody there, and haven’t for decades. It was the one place I could escape, and not have to worry about being spotted or called out.”   
  
Regret was flaring in his eyes, but I knew it wasn’t because of his departure. There was something else he was refusing to tell me, something that was bothering him more than I could even begin to imagine, and it seemed to flare brighter when he looked up at me and our eyes locked. He may be playing me and telling me exactly what I wanted to hear, but he had no reason to lie. I was still here, despite what had happened and despite my brain and heart feeling as if they’re going to explode. I was still here because... well, because he knew how to play me  _well_. So be it if I’m a fool, but when he smiled down at me, almost as if asking for forgiveness, I couldn’t bring myself to say the words I’d once let sizzle on my tongue, desperately begging to be said to lash at his skin. “A text saying you were alive and well would have sufficed,” I mumbled, admitting defeat, letting everything else sizzle down into nothing.

  
He smiled. “I’ll remember that next time.” And I was hoping to god there would never be a next time. So much can only be forgiven, and I wasn’t sure I could take another week of silence. “So, were you heading home or...?” He left the question unfinished, giving me a chance to either confirm or correct him.   
  
“I didn’t have a place in mind, actually. Why?”   
  
He grinned as he leaned back, tips of his feet lifting off the ground as his heels supported most of his weight. “No particular reason. I was just wondering if you happened to be hungry?”   
  
I shook my head, immediately regretting the decision when his entire body deflate. He was reaching out to me, and now I was the one pushing him away. He’d needed a break, and I couldn’t very well hold him that against him. I knew what it felt like to be in over my head. “Not hungry, no. But I wouldn’t mind another drink? Maybe we can go to another bar, or I’ve seen the collection you’ve got in your loft?” was I stupid to suggest going to his place, or was the alcohol still coursing in my veins throwing all common sense out the window? I’d been there with him before, so why did I feel so different and odd tonight?

  
“I see what you’re trying to do, Mundane. Think you can get me liquored up in my own loft, make it easier to take advantage of me?” He chuckled, and I found myself wanting to hear that sound more often. “Well, I must admit that I do not allow people to bed me easily. I demand at least one meal.” He offered a cheeky grin as he moved to stand next to me, his head nodding down the alleyway as he silently signaled for us to continue walking.   
  
“As if, Styles. It’ll take a lot more than liquor and a few sweet words to get me in the sack,” laughing, I playfully nudged him with my shoulder and we both fell into a comfortable silence as we walked alongside each other, the pace set calm as we moved in sync. I hadn’t thought about sleeping with him, and I knew he was only teasing, but the idea wasn’t entirely displeasing. I would never do it, of course, too afraid it would ruin what we had now and he would run away and hide, for good this time. I was just beginning to figure him out, or so I was lead to believe, and a night of fun wasn’t going to ruin that.   
  
“All is forgiven, then? Or shall I still hide the knives and pitchforks in my loft? Perhaps the lighters, too?” He asked after we’d walked for a few minutes, the alleyway no longer our main scenery as we walked down the busy street lined with different stores, coffee shops and bakeries. The street lights were large and bright, lighting up the entire street and helping us see where the sidewalk ended and the curb began. Cars were scarce, the hours approaching the early morning. Normal people would be asleep, while I was walking down a street, slightly drunk, with an immortal warlock once sent to kill me.  
  
Stepping down off the curb to walk across the street and towards the right side of the road, Harry’s loft only a few more blocks away, I looked up at Harry and snorted. “Wouldn’t leave them out just yet. Who knows what’ll happen if I come across... say, a kitchen knife?” I was going to say wooden post and matches, but didn’t know if the whole “witches being burned at the stake” thing was a sensitive subject with him, and I wasn’t in the mood nor right mind set to console a crying giant.   
  
Grabbing my elbow to guide me straight rather than right down the road, we crossed the next street and I just now wondered why we were walking. A portal trip would have been much faster, but I didn’t want to ask him. I was enjoying this, being able to walk with him without worrying when he’d just disappear. His presence was comforting. Being this close to him without anyone else around was thrilling. “Your tongue is awfully lose when you’re drunk, mundane.” He said, completely changing the conversation as his fingers tightened around my elbow, enough to be felt but not enough to hurt.

  
“Ah, yes. I suppose it was stupid to think you hadn’t heard what I told Leah.” Sniffling, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and focused on Harry’s hand that was still holding my elbow. Did he know he was still doing so? Or was it just a thoughtless action? Would he stop if I moved suddenly, or gently pushed my elbow more into his hold? “Don’t worry, though. She doesn’t believe a word I say. She thinks I'm on drugs.”   
  
“Oh?” Harry asked, clearly interested in my families drama. I thought it was funny how we were always talking about me, but never him. Did he have any family? Ones who were like him? Or did he consider any close friends to be his family? I had a feeling that he was alone, as alone as anyone could be, and he was seeking something inside of me I didn’t know if I could offer. I wanted to be close to him, but what did I truly have to offer to someone like him? My time was so short compared to his. “Have you had problems with drugs in the past?”   
  
“I wouldn’t say I had a problem,” I said, rolling my eyes as I kicked a stray rock and watched as it flew down the road and hit against a tire before bouncing off and coming to stop in the middle of the road, a car slowly creeping by going over it and making it disappear out of sight. “I smoked weed a couple of times, but never anything more.”   
  
Scoffing, Harry waved a hand in front of us. “Weed is nothing. Harmless, really. I wouldn’t even call it a drug. I was hoping for some juicy details, like maybe you were once tweaked out and vacuumed your lawn and accidentally killed the neighbors cat while doing so.”   
  
To say I was mortified would be an understatement. First off, who vacuumed their lawn? And how the hell could a vacuum kill a cat? “No! I’ve never been tweaked out, nor have I ever killed an animal.”   
  
Looking unsatisfied with my answer, Harry finally let go of my elbow and when I looked towards him to see why, hiding my disappointment behind careful eyes, he was holding open the door to his loft building. “After you.” He said, waving a hand inside the building. Doing an over exaggerated bow, I giggled and walked through the door.

The woman from before was sat at her usual seat, eyes once again locked on the book in her lap. I wonder if she ever even did her job? Or was reading the only thing she cared about, like me most days? “Hello, Sophie.” Harry said in greeting, the woman's eyes immediately leaving the book as she sat it on the counter.   
  


“Everyone has been looking for you, Harry.” She said, eyes momentarily flickering to me before they widened and found Harry’s again. “You shouldn’t be with h—“

“Thank you, Sophie, for helping Niall watch my loft.” He cut her off, and they had a silent conversation with a few heated glances before Harry gestures towards the door and she buzzed us in. “I would appreciate it if Jenny didn’t know I was in town just yet.” He slipped his hand through the small opening of her glass wall, and when she unfolded her hand after taking what he offered her, I seen a hundred dollar bill resting in her palm.   
  


“Very well.”

Grabbing my arm, Harry pulled me towards the door and it wasn’t until we were locked safely behind it that I dared look at him. He appeared calm, facial features relaxed as he walked,but there was something off about him. “Who was that?” I asked, dreading even doing so because I feared the answer.

“Sophie. She is a retired member of the clave, sent to live amongst the mundanes to help keep an eye on the defenseless idiots, no offense. She’s a more or less spy for them, if you will.” Pressing the button for the elevator, Harry folded his arms across his chest and finally glanced down at me. “She’s not a threat,”

But I hadn’t thought she was a threat. She looked harmless enough, it was what she was saying that worried me. She looked terrified when she’d seen me, even if I had done nothing wrong. “No, she may not be. But why did she look so… scared? When she seen me?”

Stepping into the elevator and moving aside to make room for me, I stepped into the rickety thing that groaned beneath our weight and shifted for a second before the doors slid closed and I was greeted with my disheveled appearance. I had a goose egg between my eyebrows from my fight with the table, and my white skinny jeans had a few darker patches littering it from the water that hadn’t fully dried. My black jacket was still zipped up, hiding my tight fitting red v-neck shirt that was beneath it. My hair was… well, Shit. Sticking up in every direction, and looking as if it hadn’t been combed in months. “You’re a mundane aware of our world. It rarely happens, and when it does, not everyone adjusts as well as I have.” He said, finger pressing the only button at the top that instantly glowed blue.

The elevator did that dropping thing that I absolutely hated before it began to go up. What he was saying sounded believable enough, but how was she aware I knew of their world? Harry must have talked to her about me before today, or at least informed her of who I was Incase I made another surprise visit. What had he said to her? “Okay.” I whispered, once again unsure of what the proper answer was.

Palming at my eyes, I tried shaking my arms to wake me up a little more, but my limbs refused to leave the slumber they’d entered. They were dragging when I walked out of the elevator, feeling like led while also being weighed down with cinder blocks. The moment Harry had his door unlocked and I stepped into his chilly apartment, however, I was suddenly wide awake again as an electric jolt shot down my spine and sizzled out into my fingertips. “It’s the wards welcoming you,” Harry said, tossing what sounded like keys onto the table next to his door. “Gives you a little shot of pep, if it recognizes you.”

“And if it doesn’t?” I asked, this being one of those questions I felt I already knew the answer to, but didn’t want to.

“You… well, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation,” smirking, Harry’s right eyebrow inclined and something danced around in his emerald orb, humor if I wasn’t mistaken. Was Harry Styles really finding amusement in my possible death?

Scoffing, I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it on the table before I walked ahead of him, not waiting for his approval but rather going exploring on my own. There was a large entryway with two double doors that I assume led into the living room, and next to that on the wall to my left was a smaller entryway. Taking it, I walked down the darkened hallway and found a staircase that led to god knows where, before I entered a kitchen.

It was sleek, counters white granite and appliances stainless steel. Running a hand across the counter, I squinted to see more when the three lights hanging above my head, a wooden fixture supporting the ends, lit up I glanced up to look at the round globes illuminating a soft white before I took in my surroundings. Another entryway through the kitchen led to a dining room, far nicer and larger than even my bedroom at my loft. The kitchen was warm and fuzzy, and the dining room was warm as well, with a calm atmosphere hanging from the glass chandelier.

Giving a hum of approval as I passed Harry again on my way back, I retraced my steps and didn’t make a peep as I began my way up the curved staircase. The handrail was wood, obviously stained a pretty brown, yet I couldn’t tell what kind of wood it was. It was smooth with bumps from the branches that had been taken off of it, adding both character and beauty. The staircase led to a dead end hallway, only three doors in the hallway. One was at the very end, head on from the staircase, and one was on each side of the hallway. Oak doors, if I’m not mistaken.

Opening the first, I discovered it led into what appeared to be a guest bedroom. It was simple, a single bed sat pressed against the wall with a brown dresser and a tv mounted on the wall. Closing it with a soft click, I listened for a second and hear the light footsteps coming up the stairs. He was following me.

Smirking, I continued on down my way, finding that the second door was a bathroom. Pretty, yet simple, and odd because I pictured him as being the over extravagant kind. Taking a deep breath when I’d reached the final door, afraid I was going to walk into some torture chamber, I twisted the doorknob that felt as if it was a snake slithering in my hands, and pushed open. I heard Harry take a sharp breath in, my eyes finding him over my shoulder for a second. “That bad?” I asked, voice small.

He shrugged, a soft her insecure smile curving his pink lips. “Depends on what your definition of bad is.”

 _Enough_. With the last ounce of courage I felt, I finished pushing open the door and found the light was already on. It looked normal from this point of view, and I went to ask Harry what he was on, when I heard his soft voice encourage me, “Go on.”

And when I listened to him and took that step forward, the entire room shifted and where I once saw a desk, I now saw a large table, shelves now lining the walls that suddenly looked black in my memories. Small bottles set on the shelves that lined the entire one wall, ranging in sizes and colors and each had labels, words in other languages I couldn’t read.

A bookshelf sat on the wall next to the door, books upon books upon books lining each crevice and not a bare spot was left. A few were in English, the titles anyway, and I saw a few that said the words like, “Love Spells,” And things like that. But what really caught my attention was the picture hanging on the only other wall left in the room that wasn’t made of glass. It was Harry, in a uniform from tr military and I instantly recognized it as an England uniform. “You were in the military?” I asked, not realizing my voice had went so quiet and timid as I slowly approached the photo.

He looked so different than he did now, his short hair floppy on top of his head with a helmet resting beneath his arm. He was scowling, eyes dark pits in the black and white photo and even in the motionless paper hanging on the wall, I could see how tired he was. He looked exhausted and unhappy, forced to even be living the life he so clearly despised. “Yes. I took part in the battle of Dunkirk,” he said, “Downworlders became allies with the enemies and participated in the battle, and shadowhunters were sent to help the mundanes survive. My purpose was the help track all the… uhm, supernatural, and help the shadowhunters kill them while also aiding on those injured.”

“If you’re a warlock, why did you need a gun?” I asked, finger tapping the gun I knew absolutely nothing about, aside from that it looked old and complicated. It was when I turned to face him that I actually realized something, and that something was that this was the only photo of him in his entire loft. Sure, he had different photos hanging up but never any of him. What was so special about this one?

Harry laughed. “I had a gun, doesn’t mean I used it.” Uncomfortable, he shifted on his feet before he began to rummage through his bottles, a nervous habit of his that I’d noticed. “The mundanes didn’t know of my gifts, and the clave would rather keep it that way. If I were to walk around and have dead bodies drop around me without having an explanation as to how, I would be burned at the stake, regardless of how many lives I’d helped save,”

Bitterness creeped into his words, that longing i’d heard once before suffocating his tone, but if you were to look at him you would never know there was anything wrong. He hid well. “My grandfather fought in the battle,” I said, ducking head to look at my feet. “He didn’t make it. My mum still raves about him, and how big of a hero he was. I admired him for so long, but it appears as if you are the one worthy of my admiration. You sacrificed so much to help those who can’t even accept you? Those who would rather see you dead on a stake, then to accept you for who you are, and what you can do.”

“I’m worthy of nothing, Louis. I didn’t help those people because I wanted to, I helped them because it was commanded of me.”

“Yet, for some reason, I do not believe you. You say you are a monster and shouldn’t be trusted, but that’s because you’re allowing everyone else to tell you who you are,” pausing, I took a few cautious step towards him and grabbed his hand, fully aware I was stepping over the line but also knowing that he needed some sort of physical contact right now. “You saved so many lives, because you wanted to. You can not tell me otherwise. I’ve seen only a fraction of your power, and I know you could overrule anybody you wanted, regardless of the leverage they have over your head.” Realizing I was getting off track, I chuckled quietly and shook my head. “Anyway. Back to my point, a monster is not what you are. You have a good heart, even if you’ve been lead to believe otherwise for so long.”

Shell shocked, Harry stared at me for a few long moments, not moving or even blinking, just staring with his fingers remaining unmoved in my grasp. I thought he’d turned to a statue, or had died, when finally his fingers curled around mine and he squeezed them lightly. “Do you just refuse to see the bad in people?”

“No,” I said with a small smile, hiding my eyes from him so he wouldn’t see what I was desperately trying to hide. “I refuse to let others opinions on themselves, or other people, waver my opinion on them. You think you’re monster, and I think you’re a stupidly beautiful warlock too stubborn to believe anybody but himself.”

I clamped my mouth shut when I realized I’d called him beautiful. I was sure I had before, in my head at least, but never out loud and the words couldn’t be taken back. I thought that maybe it had went unnoticed my him, that maybe he hadn’t heard the words, but suddenly he was pulling back from me and I heard when his body hit into the table. “Harry I-I-“

“Don’t,” he barked, voice commanding and cold, yet full of so many fucking emotions that all tied together with a crack in the simple word that broke my heart. “I am many things, but never call me that. Anything else but nev—never that.”

And when I looked up, he was hiding his eyes, a hand clamped over them and through the cracks I could see a faint green glow, but when I took a step forward to try and get a better look, he was backing away from me. Each step I took, he took three back. “You don’t know me, what I truly look like, or what I’ve done. You don’t know what I  _plan_ on doing, so do not let me or my looks decei—“

“Enough, Harry,” I cut him off, too heartbroken to listen to anymore.  _Who broke him?_  “I don’t care about any of that, or the fact that you threatened my fucking family. If you truly believe I shouldn’t be around you, or that you’re too dangerous, then why come back? Why not just stay in fucking Japan? Why not just  _kill_ me and get it over with!”

He was suddenly coming at me with a speed I didn’t know he possessed, and with a hard shove backwards I was slamming into a wall, though a hand splayed across the middle of my back kept me from hitting too hard, shielding my body while also ensuring I didn’t move. He stood before me like a wall, hard and unmoving, not even a tick of his jaw or inflation of his chest to indicate he wasn’t made of brick. His eyes were normal once more, guarded yet no matter how many walls he put up, I still always managed to see the pain and sadness seeping through. “It’s not as simple as wanting to stay or wanting to run away. This is more than just you and me.”

“I’m not talking about anybody else,” I said through gritted teeth, “I’m talking about the two of us, not your world or mine. It clearly displeases you to be this close to me, so why bother bringing me back? Why not just stay away?”

His fist went sailing by my head, hitting into the wall with a dull thud and I was amazed it didn’t break through, but I could tell he was holding back. He was furious by what I was saying, and I knew I was pressing buttons nobody had in a long time. “Because I can’t,” he admitted in a soft whisper, barely audible even though we were so close together. His hand slid down my back, pausing at the small of it before it curved around and came to rest on my hip, curling to anchor me in place. “Because I’ve tried telling myself that my infatuation with you doesn’t extend beyond my curiosity of who you are,  _what_  you are, and I could lie and tell you the same damn lie.”

“Harry,” I warned with a small breath, terrified of what was to come. He no longer looked as if he wanted to murder an entire village, but he looked uncertain as he spoke, eyes searching mine in seek of the answer I knew wouldn’t be there.

“You tell me i’m beautiful, and I want to believe it. You tell me i’m not a monster, and I can almost feel the truth you think you’re speaking, can almost forget about my past and who I am,” his words were said in a whisper once again, wonderment clear on his face as a gentle thumb came to stroke down the length of my jaw. “You speak the words I crave almost as much as I do your presence, and it terrifies me. Never, in my entire life, have I found a creature as fascinating, frustrating, and wonderful as you. Never have I been captured in such a way, yet none of it can make up for-- it can’t take away the guilt from-- I can’t erase what my intentions were when I first met you.” He seemed to be having trouble forming the right sentence, stuttering over nearly every word as he internally fought with himself.

I was hyperventilating, unsure if this was a dream or reality and if his hand was really cupping the side of my face, warming the chilly skin with the simple touch. He moved closer to me, almost as if it was an instinct, and his head tilted ever so gently to the side, like he was debating what he was doing but was ultimately losing the battle with each passing second. “Harry?” This time it was a question, and I wasn’t sure what I was asking. Did I want him to continue? Or make him stop? The erratic beating of my heart was chanting more, while my brain was screaming stop, begging for me to hear what he was saying and to get away from him…

But my mum always said listen to your heart.

His eyes were searching mine, now looking for the permission I gave with a single nod of my head, and he moved closer, both hands moving to cup each side of my neck with his thumbs hooking beneath my chin and urging my head back. I was pulled to stand on my tippy toes, the height difference much more noticeable now. I wasn’t sure how we had gotten to this point, or where it was going to go past this moment, but all I knew what I could practically feel his lips brushing mine and it wasn’t enough.

Rather than giving him full control, I practically jumped up to press our lips together, the inital collision messy as teeth bumped together before Harry steadied me by wrapping an arm around my waist and lifting me to rest my feet on the top of his. I felt guilty for ruining the shoes I knew cost more than my entire months rent, but at the moment I didn’t care. All I could think about was Harry, a cocoon of him surrounding my body as every part of my being began to chant his name.

They’ve always said your first kiss was magical, and while I hardly remembered the quick kindergarten peck i’d gotten from Adelaine in first grade, or the game of truth or dare i’d played with a few friends during fourth grade and ended up kissing some kid name Levi, I had never understood the truth behind that until now. His lips were soft and skilled, massaging mine with measured movements I knew I would never be able to learn.

I was breathless and drunk, high off of him while also anchored to the ground. My arms hung like limp noodles at my side. I didn’t know what to do with them, where to grab or how to move, so I stayed motionless and let Harry once again have to lead. I was lightheaded, trying to think back on what I’d said that could have caused this, but nothing came to mind and I didn’t regret a damn thing.

The sinking in the pit of my stomach was gone, as well as the doubt and all the questions. Harry was filling me up to the brink, leaving no space for anything else. I had once thought that this would be a mistake, and was going to deny myself a chance to experience it, but if it did fall apart it would be the best damn mistake of my life. Monster or not, Warlock or no warlock, immortal or mortal, demon or no demon, he is Harry freaking Styles and I refuse to allow the titles he, as well as others, have given him, define the man standing in front of me, currently kissing all common sense out of me.

Because, he may be all those things, but he was so much more. And I now understood what my purpose in his life was. It was up to me to show him everything he refused to see, everything he could be if he ignored everyone else.

It was up to me to make him see just how beautiful he truly is.


	7. To kill it, of course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know i'm a little late to update, and I'm so sorry! I've gotten busy, and was unable to post the chapter. It isn't proof read, but I hope there aren't too many mistakes.
> 
> Things are starting to come together, and the story will only progress from here! I hope ya'll like it!!

The morning greeted me with a slight headache pounding at my skull, and shattered memories trying so hard to be pieced together. My eyes were still closed, back aching from whatever I’d slept on and when I tried rolling onto my side to ease the pressure, my face met the floor as I fell off the couch.

I scrambled to my feet as quick as I could, eyes shooting open to find I was standing in my living room, fully clothed, with corner of my lip bleeding and a note stuck to the side of my face. Eyebrows furrowing, I blinked away the sleep still clinging to my eyelashes like clumped snow, and pulled the paper off. The letters were hard to read at first, but when I focused on them I was able to read the surprisingly neat handwriting.

**_I went to grab some breakfast and coffee. I’ll be back soon._ **

**_Btw, you snore. Loud. And you’re quite the talker when you’re unconscious ;) see you soon._ **

**_—Louis_ **

At the name, everything came flooding back and the note was falling from between my fingers as my hand shot to my mouth. There, I could still feel his lips pressed against mine, soft and unsure movements sending shockwaves down my spine. It was a ghost of a memory, but the power it held was strong. It was as if he was standing before me again, giggling breathlessly as he stared up at me with glossy eyes and a sweet smile. “ _Maybe you should leave more often,”_ he’d said, and like the night before when I heard it, I felt my heart clench at his words. I didn’t want to leave, not now and not anytime soon, but I may have to.

Being involved with him was a big no-no, especially seeing as he was not only the claves strongest asset, but also because I was sort of using him. Or rather I wasn’t, not at the moment anyway. Last night only solidified my swaying thoughts, grounding my worries and banishing away all hope. I couldn’t use him, not when he granted me such trust. The way he opened up to me, the way I was able to get him to talk hours on end, had any and all thoughts of my death leaving my mind. He was my only hope, yes, but maybe not in the only way I thought.

I tried remembering after the kiss, what had happened and if it led to anything further. We’d went downstairs, he’d made me a horrid drink he claimed his sister had taught him, and despite the disgusting taste I still drank it. To please him. We’d talked until the moon was no longer our only friend, and the sun was waking up to greet us with the yellowish rays signaling a new day. I’d discovered things I’d never hoped to, like what his favorite food was, and how he preferred the color rainbow so he didn’t have to commit to a single color.

He told me anything I wished to know, and I told him next to nothing. He knew of my closest friends, Niall, Liam and Grace, who I loved dearly but knew would lose one day. I skirted around Chalice, and what I did at the institute, not wanting to dive head first into that conversation while alcohol was coursing through my veins and chance saying something I didn’t want to, something I would regret.

His soft, raspy voice was echoing in my ears, lulling me to sleep on the uncomfortable couch as everything around me was swaying, everything except Louis. Beyond that, or even after I’d closed my eyes, I couldn’t remember a thing. Not until I woke up confused as Fuck, wondering why I hadn’t tried to score when he was so obviously willing.

He was different, something I had to admit to myself now. He wasn’t someone I just wanted to dump off after getting what I wanted, and using him to make the sword of Edom flare brightly was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to get to know him, quirks and all and if another kiss ever happened, then so be it. The clave didn’t control me, and they couldn’t exactly kill me if they ever found out about my... how would they word it? Treason?

Louis was a game piece to them, a means to an end, and much as I regret to admit he was once the same to me, he was now something entirely different. He was immortal, but could die. He could kill me whenever he wanted, yet I still found myself drawn to him, not what he can do. He was... god, what was he? A f—

The sudden click of my door opening drew me out of my thoughts, casting aside all memories of last night. I strained my ears to focus, hearing the light steps and the crinkle of a bag as keys jingled in the persons pocket. It wasn’t Niall, or anyone from the institute. They had a certain heaviness to their step, were always easy to pick out unless they were hunting. Then, not even a vampire could hear them.

Slowly grabbing a letter opener off the stand next to the couch, knowing damn well it was of no use to me and I had a much stronger weapon just at the tips of my fingers, I still clutched it tightly in my hand and crept towards the archway. I’d made it a few steps, maybe, before Louis suddenly appeared looking far too happy and bright for as much alcohol he had consumed last night, and the very little sleep he had. “I brought coffee and croissants.” He said, holding the paper tray up that held two paper cups, and the brown paper bag that crinkled at the movement.

Eyeing my choice of weapon, Louis giggled and pushed past me to walk into the kitchen, then to the dining room. “I know it’s not much, but the coffee shop was out of pretty much everything when I got there. Apparently Monday mornings are busy for them,” he said, grinning over his shoulder at me before he sat down.

Making himself at home, I see. It didn’t take him too long to get comfortable here. “You uh— You came back?” I didn’t know why I sounded so surprised, or why my voice was so stupidly slow. I thought I’d gotten past that stage, puberty having happened centuries ago, but apparently around Louis, my voice went to the agonizingly low and slow stage it had when I’d reached man-hood.

Even as I watched him move around, taking his respected cup before laying down the napkins on the table he’d pulled out of the bag, followed by the croissants, I still wasn’t sure if he was real. I was too foggy from last night, and though my magic was working to ease the headache I’d gotten from the bloody alcohol, it was still hard for me to grasp reality, to tell which was fantasy and which was really happening. “Of course. Said I would. Didn’t you get my note?”

Only now looking up at me, Louis frowned at the site of my lip and gestured towards it, finger dragging down his own chin to signal where the blood had trailed down mine. “What happened?” He asked, “need a napkin?”

Shaking my head at the offered stiff, papery thing that was nearly transparent when unfolded, I wiped my mouth off with the sleeve of my shirt and approached the table. “I fell off the couch. My morning wake up call wasn’t as nice to me as you, I see.” Lip quirking up, I sat at the seat opposite of Louis and closest to the only exit in the room, if you didn’t count the ceiling made entirely out of glass. “Nothing to worry about, though. It will be healed soon enough,” and it would. I could already feel the skin tugging together, my pulse no longer as strong in the small cut.

Smacking his lips, Louis shook his head and exhale deeply. “Right, well. This is yours,” sliding the paper cup with the plastic lid across to me, he handed me a little plastic thing with a tin foil lid that peeled back that read cream, and a little sugar packet, “I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so,” leaving the rest of his sentence hanging, he handed me the two large croissants that had a lovely papery plate that must have had hundreds of filthy hands on them, and took a large bite out of his own.

“Ugh, thanks?” I wasn’t used to people buying me things, even as simple as something like food and coffee. I was always the one expected to pay, the one who always went above and beyond with gifts, and like Anne used to say, “Never trust a stingy warlock. They have centuries to build their wealth.” Which was something I always listened to, a small little sentence I’d carried around with me for centuries. I tried not to be stingy, and often gave back more than I ever received. I tried to never complain, either. I had a decent enough life, and was better off than I was the first few years of my life.

Heart swelling at the kind gesture, I shoved aside my trust issues and dislike of coffee or food bought from mundane shops, I took a small sip of the coffee. It was bland and strong, but I managed to mask my reaction and instead offered Louis a smile, hoping to god the black liquid didn’t seep past the seam of my lips. “It’s good,” I said after I’d forced myself to swallow.

He smiled shyly at my compliment, the words obviously meaning more to him that he originally let on. “Yeah? It’s not my favorite shop, but it was the closest to your house.”

“It’s lovely,” and that wasn’t entirely a lie. It may taste foul, but the fact that he thought of me, and bought me something when he didn’t have to, left me speechless. Stunned, really. Despite my many years of living, I’d never been this close to a mundane before that had genuinely caught me off guard or managed to surprise me in such a way. “I mean it,”

I could subtly tap the cup and change the liquid inside to whatever I wanted to, could add my own home brewed coffee or take away the bitter edge to it, but I refused. I could suck this up, even if it meant I used the things pumped full of chemicals that Louis had offered me. The sugar immediately dissolved in the black liquid once I’d taken the lid off and poured it, followed by the creamer that had an off smell to it. It wasn’t enough, I could tell you that just by the way the coffee only changed a slight shade lighter, but it would have to do.

Picking at his croissant, I could feel Louis’ eyes on me as he internally struggled over something. I pretended not to notice, just focused on my cup and the way the red stick Louis had gave me swirled the liquid around the cup, creating a small whirlpool. “About last night—“ he began, and I automatically feared he was going to reject me, or say he regretted it, but when I looked up at him I didn’t see rejection or even disgust. He looked.... happy? “I was caught up in the moment, we both were, and I understand if you want to pretend like it never happened. But... I don’t know. I guess I kind of wish it would— happen again, I mean.”

A man who is honest about his emotions. I like it. “And why would you think I want to forget about it?” I asked, carefully choosing my words. Smirking to myself, I lifted the stick to my lips and closed them around it, the plastic hard and warm as my tongue swirled around it. I couldn’t honestly care less about the flavor or the fact that what I currently had in my mouth, had been handled by many, many people, because it was affecting Louis. His eyes glossed over, his chair sliding on the floor as he shifted in his seat and his breathing picked up speed. “Did I say something?”

His eyes were glued to my lips which, good. Distraction is a mans, or woman’s, strongest weapon. It allows them to get the truth people hide, but forget to not speak when their mind is focused on another thing. “No. I-I just thought you’d want to find someone who wasn’t like me. Someone more attractive, and of your world?”

“You’re attractive, Louis. Never think otherwise.”

Still distracted, he agreed with a hum and watched intentionally as the stick became trapped between my teeth as I bit down on it. “Tell me. Do you find me attractive?”

He nodded his head absentmindedly, gulping. I had him where I wanted him, and could tell him to kill his mother and he’d agree to it. Whether or not he’d follow through with it was an entirely different thing. “And if I were to kiss you again, would you like it?”

This time, however, he shook his head clear and managed to ignore my attempt at distracting him. His eyes focused on mine, the cloudiness disappearing as he came back to earth. “You don’t need to do that, you know? I’ll tell you anything you want.”

The fact that what he was saying was true, hurt more than it should. He was being an open book, while I was keeping entire books hidden from him, only reading him short paragraphs from my choices of pages. “Sorry.” Removing the stick, I set it on the table and noticed Louis was following my movements with his eyes before they found mine again. “Answer the question, then. If you will truly tell me anything.”

Squirming, Louis flushed a bright pink color and looked down at the table. “Yes, I would. And I know you would too.”

“Oh, I never claimed I wouldn’t.” I would enjoy it far more than I should, and I knew it was wrong but I couldn’t stop myself.

Pushing up from my chair, I walked around the table, all the while dragging a finger across the wood as I went, and paused next to Louis. “Lo-“ I was cut off by the sudden blaring of my phone ringtone. Growing, i stomped into the living room and found the half dead thing hiding beneath the couch. “What?” I snapped when I answered, not even bothering to check the caller Id.

“Calm down, mate. Is it that time of the month again?”  _Niall._

“Look, I’m not in the mood and if you haven’t anything to say that’s worthy of my time, I’m hanging up.”

“Actually, you’re being requested. We’ve got reports downtown of,” he paused, his light breathing filtering in through the speaker as a few clicks were heard. He was using the computer, obviously, and I could practically see him tapping the thin air as he used the touchscreen monitors that used the same kind of thing as holograms, only far more advanced. “A vampire and warlock killing innocent mundanes. They stay within a certain age group, and all the males have strong features that resemble one another.”

“Who are they looking for?”

“I think you know who. Brown hair, blue eyes? Kind of small. Ringing any bells?”

Growling, I pulled the phone away from my ear and tightened my grip, the screen cracking. I was hoping word wouldn’t get out about him, not yet anyway. Someone must have seen him, or Chalice must have told someone she trusted what he looked like.  _Fuck_. “I’ll be there shortly.” Clicking the end button, I threw the phone at the wall and stomped into the dining room. “Listen. The institute needs me; I have a case. There’s a few rogue Downworlders killing male mundanes, and id much rather you stay here, where you’re safe.”

Without giving him a chance to reply, I snapped my fingers and was changed into a new outfit, feeling much fresher in new clothes, and just as he was opening his mouth I was walking through the portal that disappeared as soon as I reached the other side.

I was in the main room of the institute, Shadowhunters running around in search of their gear. “Niall. Location?” I asked the Irish lad still typing away at the computer, the screen above it immediately zooming in on a map of London as his hands came together.

“Somewhere downtown. They’re moving too fast for us to track them, and they aren’t following a pattern. But the last kill was here,” pointing at a spot on the screen, it beeped in recognition to his finger and zoomed in on an all too familiar bar. _They were getting too close._

“Alright. I’m leaving. Are you coming with me?” I asked, back already towards him as I jogged up the stairs and out of all the chaos.

“Grace, take over for me! I’m going with Harry.” I heard Niall call before he appeared by my side, sword sheathed to a belt around his waist. His eyes glowed gold for a split second, followed by his stamina runs and his tracking rune lighting up, the light faint beneath his clothes. “I’m ready.”

All shadowhunters, rather they’re newcomers and just got their first rune, or were as old as Niall’s mum was and had every rune imaginable, had the ability to activate any and all runes on their body with a simple thought. Their eyes glow gold while doing so, and though everyone has the ability, it takes years to master and at some point you’ll be able to activate more than one rune at a time.

Downworlders don’t have such a gift unless they’re born with magic. They’re considered unworthy, considering the demon blood that boils away in their veins. Nudging my head towards the wall, the portal opened with a whooshing noise and I allowed Niall to enter first before I went after him. “Devils Paradise,” sat before us, the music audible even outside. Niall’s invisibility rune glowed, hiding him from all mundane eyes, but not Downworlders. Unless I cast my own glamour, I was left looking like a looney talking to nobody, and more often than not, that was the case.

“The last attack was just a block from here,” Niall said, the watch around his wrist casting the same screen we’d been looking at back at the institute, only much smaller now and not as high tech.

“Okay. Split up? I go left, you go right?” Nodding, Niall didn’t think too much about my suggestion and went the way I said. Fingers curving around my ears, I heightened my hearing and vision to be able to see and hear even in the darkened alleyways that the sun was barely brushing.

Aside from the sound of Niall’s feet pounding against the wet asphalt a few hundred feet behind me, I didn’t hear anything. I was beginning to think that the men I knew to be after Louis had left to go and find their next victim, when I heard a quiet sob. I followed the noise without thinking, blue glowing in my hand as a ball of fire grew for me to use.

“Over here!” I shouted to Niall when I spotted the two men hiding between two building close together, the walkway literally only about five feet apart. Their heads snapped up at the sound of my voice, the blonde male vamps face smeared with blood as the female warlock held the squirming male up against the brick wall with a simple entrapment spell. Her magic was red, she was teetering on the thin line of becoming a dark warlock, and the proof was wrapped around the small males wrists, torso, and ankles. “Let him go,” I said, giving them the chance to do the right thing, like I always did, but most of them never listened.

The vamp came running at me, but Niall came just in time to kick him in the gut, the force enough to throw him back into the wall. “I got him, you get her,” he said, and I will gladly do so.

Chasing a single mundane was harmless enough, and most did it for sport, but to go on a murdering rampage looking for the man I have tried hiding so fucking carefully, was not okay. Anger seared through my veins, sparks shooting off my body and dancing along the asphalt with each step I took. My eyes flared for a second, revealing my mark, and the woman immediately scream and jumped back.

The mundane fell to the ground with a groan and pop, his head smacking against the asphalt and knocking him unconscious. “P-Please. You have to understand our desperation. He can kill us all, and if we do not find him the clave will assure he does what he is meant to do. Please,” She was begging now, her own mark showing as her glamour fell.

Half of her face was scarred, and if I had to guess, I would say her father was Azaliack, one of the lowest of demons there is. A mark a warlock gets is entirely based on their parents own marks, and while not always get the same, most do. “Killing innocent mundane isn’t the way to go about this. The boy isn’t in London. He is in America, and the clave have assured his safety. You should know they wouldn’t let someone as powerful as that boy out of their protection.”

Anger swamped her features and with a scream, she was thrusting a ball of magic at me, nothing that would cause too much damage but it would pack a punch and I would definitely go flying. Lifting an arm to shield my face, a blue, transparent shield appeared and formed around my body, sending her useless ball up into the sky where it exploded.

Her eyes widened in fear when she realized it was my turn. Throwing my own little surprise ball at her, we both watched as it turned and curved in the air, the electricity only growing stronger. It hit into her with a loud boom, and she went flying backwards, but what I didn’t account for was the portal that opened a second later and swallowed her whole. Either she did that herself, or someone else wanted her.

Turning to Niall just in time to watch as a black eyed vamp came charging at me, I didn’t have time to react before I was being tackled to the ground and the vamps fangs were sinking into the flesh at my neck. Yelling, I grabbed him by the neck and threw him up and back, his body slamming into the wall before it fell to the ground. Blood was pouring out of my neck, scalding hot as pain flared at the two puncture wounds I’d ripped open into jagged cuts when I’d pulled him off of me.

Crouching down, I prepared myself for his next attack and was more prepared when he came at me. I rolled into his slam, managing to pin him to the ground and my fist sunk into his gut. “Who do you work for! Why do you want the boy?”

“To kill it, of course,” the vamp hissed, grinning and revealing his sharp fangs tinged with red; my blood. “You can not stop all of us. He will send more, and soon we will find the boy with the sweet blood. Chalice came close, and we will too.”

“Who is he?”

“That,” he said with a breath that reeked of death, “is something you already know; quite well, actually. Listen to your heart, you’ll hear him calling to you as he always does,”

Him talking was distraction enough for him, because before I knew it, he was grabbing a wooden leg that once was a part of a table, and hit me upside the head with it. My ear drum exploded, my vision turning black as everything became blurry and my ears rang. His foot came in contact with my jaw, his kick powerful enough I was thrown backwards into the ground.

But I wasn’t down just yet. Despite not being able to see or hear very well, I was still able to feel. Placing my hand on the ground, fingertips placed firmly on the damp asphalt, I sent a surge of magic out and the vamp scream, the smell of burning flesh clogging my nostrils. I couldn’t very well have him running around telling everyone what he knew, and one else person trying to kill me or Louis, was for the best.

I could hear the strong best of Niall’s heart when I turned my head and listened the the rocks rumbling beneath my ear. He was close to me, but was knocked unconscious.

With the trust I wouldn’t fall on my face as soon as I stood, I urged my magic to help my vision, white stars appearing as light flooded the darkness. Walking over to the mundane who was still laying on the floor, I crouched next to him and placed two fingers against his neck, just above the bite mark in his neck, and I couldn’t find his pulse. He looked like Louis, horrifyingly enough, and my heart clenched painfully. This could have been him, still could be, if he wasn’t protected properly.

Waving a hand over his body, I healed the two puncture wounds on his neck and closed his eyes, something I always found myself doing on instinct because the clave asked. Our world could never be discovered, and even if the wounds could have been written off as something else, it was better this way.

Falling back onto my butt, I placed my head between my knees and just focused on breathing, trying to ease the fast beating of my heart. Lifting a hand, I waved it towards Niall, the portal swallowing him and depositing him in the institutes infirmary before I pulled it towards me and I was falling ass backwards into my own loft.

My vision was returning completely now, and at the sudden ruckus from me hitting into the table when I’d fell to the couch and hadn’t accounted for my feet, Louis came running in. “My god, Harry! Are you al-“

I lifted a hand to silence him, and focused on the feeling in my face. I could feel as it began to heal, the magic creating a slight itch beneath my skin that I wanted to scratch so fucking bad but if I gave into the urge, I wouldn’t be able to stop until I hit bone. “Fine, see?” The blood was still there, but all injuries were gone, the perk of being a warlock who could do whatever he wanted and not have to worry about walking around looking like an ugly duckling.

Even if my appearance was fine, I didn’t feel fine. Something the vampire had said to me had disturbed me in a way I couldn’t explain. If I knew the man, then he had to be someone immortal, someone who knew of who I was. The calling he was speaking of, was what bothered me most. The man was a warlock, his magic reaching the depths of evil I never dreamed of, and if he ever got Louis within his grasp, Hell would break loose. I could feel it. I could feel  _him_.

He wasn’t going to give up. And Louis wasn’t safe.

——

Emma whimpered, skin burning and sizzling from whatever that warlock had thrown at her. It was magic beyond her years, a power she’d only ever seen in one person before, and that man was who called upon her. She could hear him growing closer, could feel the evil and hatred radiating off of him in suffocating waves.

Pulling herself up to rest against the wall, she lifted up the scorched shirt that revealed red flesh, the first layers of skin burned off. Her torso was the most affected, where the ball had hit her and thrown her back. She would have burned completely if not for the man whose name she has yet to learned, portalled her away from that other warlock.

Trying to heal herself would be useless, the warlock in the alleyway made sure her magic wasn’t strong enough to do so. “Did you find him?” The man asked, yet to be seen but his voice echoed off the dark walls in the secluded room.

“We-We were close. But that man, the one you warned us of, came. H-He was stronger than you said, and my magic was no match for his.” When the man growled, the very walls shaking around her, she scream and scrambled back into a corner, body shaking as she whimpered. “Please, we tried. He’s being protected by the clave, and by magic. He’s untrack-“

“I don’t want to hear your excuses!” The man said, black eyes becoming visible as he came into her line of sight. “The clave do not have him in their custody,” the man said, sure of his words. He had a source, a very reliable source, who lived safely within the walls of the institute, who was respected and knew all there was to know about the boy with Edith’s blood. She knew all but his name. Only Harry Styles knew that, and he was protecting the damned boy. “The boy doesn’t even know of his gifts. He’s living his life amongst the mundanes, and you were to track him and bring him to me. What part of that did you not understand?”

“If you kill me, they will know! I told someone everything, your plan and who you’re looking for. They’ll go to the clave with the information if I do not return h—“ apparently not knowing he didn’t take being threatened too lightly, Emma scream, a blood chilling sound that richotched and made the very earth tremble beneath her body, as the man lifted a hand and squeezed. Her eyes began to bleed, ears swimming in her own blood, and a second later her head was exploding.

“Do not think you’re untouchable, my little one. Such a shame. You were such a strong asset.” Tsking, he flicked a finger at her and her body caught fire, burning away any and all evidence she was even here.

Walking to his room, the man pushed aside the thick red curtains and looked up at the mirror he kept hid, watching as Harry laid sprawled on his couch as he talked to someone, someone unseen by the mirrors eyes. Only a light blue silhouette could be seen moving around. He was protecting him with magic, that much was true, but Harry was no match for him. Alistair would have what he wanted, even if it meant killing those he loved.

And love, he did, even if his love only extended as far as one person;

_Harry Styles._


	8. Apparently I’m a damsel in distress

The events that led to me moving home were not ones I wanted to remember, ones I wished to bury deep within myself and forget completely, hoping to god if the images weren’t staining my eyelids, I wouldn’t feel the way I was. The blood was still staining the hardwood in my kitchen, a dark patch looking as if paint had been spilled and later cleaned up, but I knew the truth. I knew the blood had seeped into the wood, and told the story I feared to remember, the story Harry had chosen for me.

The story that still had pages missing, because even now, I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t know what caused this, or why I was the target. I didn’t know how to protect myself, because I wasn’t told. I was kept waiting in the dark, and I could only hope Harry would shine some light and take pity on me.

Though I suppose not knowing is best, for me at least.... uh, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

—-

“No, B. I haven’t met anyone.” I sighed into the phone sandwiched between my ear and shoulder, fighting with my bag and balance to unlock the door. Twisting the doorknob, I pushed it open and immediately dropped my bag to the floor, kicking it out of the walkway and closing the door behind me. “I’ve been busy with schoolwork, that’s all.”

Bianca was an acquaintance, if you could even call her that. We talked on and off, and she always seemed to pry into my life far more than she should. The conversation always focused around me, and never her. “Lou, come onnnnn. I know you’re hiding something. I can tell in your voice.” She whined, prodding at the bandage I’d put over the whole Harry thing in hopes to keep from blurting anything out.

I was just returning home after my final class, a little over a week having passed since my night with Harry. It hadn’t progressed much, to say the least. He was acting strange, always making excuses as to why we couldn’t meet, or when we could, insisting we met at his place and even then, he only allowed me to go when portalled. I had a feeling something was wrong, or something bad was going to happen, and as the calendar marked off each passing day, the feeling only grew worse.

Today was Friday, and I wish that meant the same to me as it had a few weeks ago. Going out and partying, or staying home and studying before letting myself get lost in the world of books. I was too distracted lately to read, and my grades would only prove I hadn’t done my homework for quite a while. It was a neatly stacked pile on my dresser that only grew daily, irritating me with each paper I added.

Blushing, I tried to pin point what she could hear in my voice. Happiness? Was my tone tired? Did I sound as high as I felt when thinking of Harry? “It’s nothing, really.” I insisted, the memory of Harry threatening those closest to me coming to mind. I didn’t know if I could tell people about him, even without mentioning his... er... gifts? And I wasn’t looking to find the answer. “I have finals coming up, and I’ve just been stressed. If I meet mister right, I’ll make sure you’re the first the know. Deal?”

“Deal!” She rushed to say, giggling. There was something different about Louis, something lighter in his step and voice and she automatically knew it was because of a boy, but if he wasn’t ready to talk she wouldn’t push him. “Make sure you snap a picture of your knight in shinning armor when he comes, too. I need somebody to drool over. I’ve accepted I’ll forever be alone and have hundreds of cats to keep me company and later eat me when I’m dead.”

She sounded so okay with that thought that it made me squirm. Cats were great, yes, but to accept that they’ll eventually eat the person that loved them if they died and were left in the same room as them, was unsettling. “Sorry, love. My knight in shining armor is—“ cutting off, I grimaced at my mistake and rushed to quickly correct myself, “ _will_  be an idiot in shiny tin foil with a papier-mâche helmet and wooden sword.”

She sighed at the idea, imagining the hunk that would finally steal Louis’ heart and she was smitten by the fool she imagined, could hear Louis was as well. “Whatever. He can come naked for all I care.” She missed Louis’ slip up, too focused on the naked man her mind has conjured up to really focus on her friend.

Snorting, I thumbed through my mail and when I found nothing important, I tossed it on the table and pulled a chair out with my foot. “Why? For easier access?”

“No, so I can see the whole package and decide if it’s worth keeping or if I should return to sender.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the knot in my stomach lessening if only just a little. “Of course, of course. We don’t want a man whose pinky finger outshines his...” I trailed off, not comfortable saying penis over the phone.

“Penis, Lou. Penis.” I could hear her smirking over the line. “But exactly! My dragon needs slayed and if he doesn’t have the correct tools, then I wanna know before I lead him to my cave only to be poked by a tiny thorn.”

There was no responding to that. There was nothing I could say, even if I wanted to. I was too busy laughing, trying to shake away the visual she had painted in my head. Saved by the Bell, or rather the door, I peeked up when I heard someone knocking and silently thanked whatever god there was that I didn’t have to think of something to say to her. “Hey, I gotta go. We’ll talk later?”

“Of course. Bye Lou,”

I hung up without hesitation. I quickly threw my phone on the table Incase she called back, and high tailed it to the door. I didn’t find it odd that someone was here, even if I rarely had guests, and I kind of assumed it was Harry and he decided to use the front door to catch me off guard. “Louis Tomlinson?” The man asked, nose subtly tilting us as he inhaled deeply as soon as the door was opened.

He was large, towering over my 5 ft some odd inch body by at least a foot and a half. He had large, square shoulders and light colored skin, a perfectly trimmed beard framing his pink puffy lips. His eyes were intense, the gaze having the knot in my stomach tug to the point I was slightly hunched forward with a fist dug into the soft flesh. “Yes, how may I help you?” There was something off about him, something screaming for me to run before it was too late. I could feel the crystal calling to me, begging to be worn and taken from its slumber I’d put it in. I took it off this morning to shower, forgetting to put it on after, but now I regretted that decision.

The strange mans eyes floated around my loft, his hand pressing against my door to hold it open more. “You’re alone?” He asked.

“Uh-uh—,”  _LIE!_ The voice in my head was so loud it sounded as if it came from right next to me, not from within me. “No, actually. My boyfriend is here. Just in the bathroom.” The voice seemed pleased by my lie, and when it gave a soft hum I knew it was Harry.  _Where was he?_ When the water in the bathroom turned on to further back up my lie, i tried hiding the way my eyes widened, but the man noticed it, grinning when my eyes lingered on the door behind my shoulder. “Can I— can I help you with anything?”

“Actually,” he purred, outstretched arm moving faster than I could track. He gripped me by my throat, not only leaving me unable to move from his grasp, but unable to call for help seeing as my airways were clamped shut. “You can.”

Clawing at his hand, face heating up as I felt all the air leaving my body, he easily lifted me off the ground and walked into my loft before closing the door with his foot. Without hesitation, he lifted me higher in the air before he threw me back, my body becoming wieghtless and I was so focused on greedily inhaling the fresh air to realize the doom that laid out beneath me. I hit into my couch, making it slide across the floor as my spine bent to form around the arm before I fell to the floor.

“You’ve got quite the number on your head, Louis. You’re worth millions, possibly more by the nights end,” grinning, the man waved off the pitiful noise I made and circled around my loft before he found his way back to me. I was paralyzed, unable to move or speak and I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or if he was a warlock, too. Using his magic in a way I knew Harry never would. “Finding you was harder than I was originally led to believe, but alas, the cryptic message my darling Chalice sent was deciphered and... here we are.” Gesturing around him, the man chuckled and crouched next to me.

“Ah, how rude of me. I suppose I should give you a chance to fight, yes?” He was a sick, twisted man who enjoyed the idea of his prey running away and begging for their life. There was something in his eyes, something that he lacked and I quickly realized it was his humanity. He didn’t have a conscious, and I knew he would kill me without a moments hesitation.

My eyes found the door behind his shoulder, still closed as the water continued to run in the sink that emptied just as fast as it filled. Harry had felt me, I knew it, but where was he? Why wasn’t he here to help me? The man brushed a hand down my face, only now bringing my attention to the tears marking my cheeks and scratching my eyes, and licked the salty mixture off as he watched me. “I only realize how truly valuable you are now that I see you. Sure, you pose a threat to me and my kind, but that’s what makes this all the more thrilling. I could hand you over for the money, and chance being killed, or I could hide you away and use you as my own bargaining chip. Together, we could take everything we wanted, and nobody could stop me.”

Delusions ran rampant in his mind, clouding his eyes with want and it was that tiny distraction that gave me my chance. He slipped up, his magic no longer extended towards me, no longer holding me hostage, and I grabbed the closest thing to me that I could find and bashed him in the head with it. The glass coffee cup shattered, slicing my fingers open and digging into his scalp. I didn’t have time to climb to my feet. I rather scrambled to my hands and knees and crawled as fast as I could away from him, body lagging and slow as pain stabbed at my back.

He scream and fell backwards, knocking over my small coffee table as he went down, and I managed to reach the kitchen before I was suddenly being picked up by the back of my neck and thrown over my table and into the small window above my sink. It too broke as soon as I hit it, the glass shards miraculously not cutting me. I fell into the double sink with a groan, metal enclosing the entire one side of my body as my head bounced off the tiled counter.

I rolled without a thought, and fell to the floor, unbeknownst to me, landing on a piece of glass that pierced my thigh and shredded the meat. “What do you want?” I cried when I opened my bleary eyes and seen him standing over me, just a dark silhouette with the harsh lights framing his body.

“You,” he growled out, face covered in blood. His entire one eye was red and blood shut, the crimson liquid matting his hair and staining his teeth. “I offered you a chance to work by my side, and this is how you repay me?” Another growl and I was being picked up again and shoved against my fridge that rattled. I thought that this was the end, that his disfigured face would be the last thing that I seen, and I wasn’t okay with that. My cat eating me after I’d died was a comforting thought now. I didn’t want to die by this monsters hands, and have his rage filled eyes be my last memory.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, feeling lightheaded as the words squeezed out of my closing airway. His fangs popped out then, and even in my delirious state I knew that wasn’t normal, that not even five minutes ago he had been using magic to constrain me, and now he was a vampire? “Harry!” I called out with my last breath, hoping he would hear me like he had that night in the dream, that he would save me even if I wasn’t worthy of being saved.

“Alistair wants you because his son has you, and you’re messing with his favorite toy.” Pausing to lean forward, his tongue drug across a cut across my cheek, lapping at the open wound and I gagged at the feeling, tried fighting against him to get free but he was too strong. “I want you because of your blood.” He flashed a smile, tongue slithering out to show me exactly what he was talking about. “Shadow hunter blood is addicting, more so than humans, but your blood...” he trailed off. “Your blood is exceptional. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

His pupils were blown, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the blow to the head he took, or because of my blood. But what was so special about it? “You plan on killing me?” The words hurt to say, scratching their way up my throat and coming out a barely audible rasp.

“No, no. I plan on taking as much of your blood as I can without killing you. And while doing so, I’ll use you as leverage. I can take over the world as long I have you to use. Nobody wants to die,” 

My once swaying legs came to a complete stop, the floor inches away and my hands fell to my sides, chunks of his skin embedded beneath my fingernails. He tapped my forehead with the tip of his nose, and with the touch came jolts of this horribly excruciating pain that shot through my body and began to attack all the wounds I had.

I didn’t know how to beg for my life, didn’t know what to say to a man so completely gone that would make him realize this was all a mistake. I couldn’t kill anyone, and I certainly didn’t know an Alistair, nor his son. I didn’t have anybody, and nobody had me. Everything began to grow black and I was giving into my bodies wishes to sleep, to give into the pain and just to shut down so I didn’t have to endure anymore, when my fingers brushed something sharp sticking out of my thigh.

The tiny touch had pain slicing through my leg, but I gritted my teeth and closed my fingers around it, feeling as it tore open my flesh and tiny glass shards became embedded in my fingers. I had one chance to do this, one small second to get this right or he would attack and I would be dead. His fingers curled around my throat, gripping it tighter and it was when his head turned towards my front door that I took my chance.

I ripped the shard of glass out of my thigh and with what little strength I possessed, I jammed it into the side of his neck and watched in horror as blood started to spew out. He yelled out in pain, letting go of me so I fell to the floor gasping for air as he clawed at the glass protruding from his neck, enclosed in the flesh. “Did you truly think this would kill me? I. Can’t. Di-,” too busy enunciating each word, he didn’t hear the quiet footsteps growing closer to him, barely an audible tap on the hardwood floor, but I seen them.

I watched as the blonde man grabbed his shoulder and spun him around before driving something into his stomach, the long blade easily going through and coming out of his back, only inches from my face. “No, but this can,” the Irish man said, and something in the back of my mind stirred at the voice, but I couldn’t remember where I knew it from.

I didn’t hear the words that followed, and I didn’t see what happened to the two men. I only knew the shouts were loud and my ears were ringing and my entire body  _hurt_. My head met the floor once again that night, and this time I was hoping it was the last. Someone came to kneel by me, their face glowing gold and a comforting sensation washed over me, allowing me to ease into a state of unconsciousness without the worry of dying.

——

The first thing I became aware of when the colorful ripples began to pierce my black vision, was how fucking uncomfortable I was. My neck was craned, my hands were awkwardly folded beneath my body and my head was resting on something hard, bony almost. Cracking one eye open, I looked around the unfamiliar room that scream with white rage, and was momentarily blinded.

I didn’t know where I was, what I was laying on, or what the fuck happened. My memories were a jumbled mess, trying so hard to be remembered and picked out but there was too many at once. Shifting onto my side a little, I suddenly went still when a hand was placed on the small of my back and began to rub soft circles there. Either I was dreaming, or something seriously wrong was going on... or... the man that came to my house. Did he take me?

But no. This person didn’t feel the same. I focused on their fingers, could feel the coldness from jewelry decorating their fingers seeping through my shirt. Their touch was comforting, warm, and I found myself leaning back into the touch with a small sigh. It was Harry, I knew it was Harry and when I moved my head, just a soft little nuzzle one would make when they were asleep, I let one eye pop open and seen just a few inches in front of my face was his knee, and next to that was his other knee.

Alright, so my head was laying in his lap and if I, for some reason, tipped my head back, I would be laying on his crotch. _Great_. Blushing at the thought, I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to move just yet. The touch silenced my thoughts enough I could sort through my them, letting each different memory conjoin into one small movie that played out beneath my closed eyelids.

“How is he doing?” A soft, feminine voice suddenly asked, followed by the sound of a door clicking shut. I unconsciously tensed at the voice, not knowing who it belonged to or why she was here.

“Fine. He’s still asleep.” I heard Harry respond, the rumble of his voice echoing beneath my ear. My lip quirked up when his fingers curled around my thigh, and I wasn’t sure if he was telling me to be still because he knew I was awake, or if he was doing it because he didn’t know I was awake. Whatever the reason, it felt nice.

There was clinking heard, followed by a cold, wet wash cloth laid across my forehead. I fought against the urge to jerk back, nose twitching as the cold water began to trickle down my face. “Even magic can’t heal the tired,” the woman murmured, Harry humming in agreement. “Does he know what happened? Or who Morgan was?”

“No, not yet anyway. I was allowing him to rest a bit before I woke him and tried to explain why one of my oldest acquaintances attempted to kill him,”

“It wasn’t your fault, Harry. It’s the claves. They’re the one to hold responsible for even telling the downworld of his existence and not making an effort to protect him. It’s almost as if they want their only leverage to be killed.”

This woman was saying the same thing the other man had earlier; that I was leverage. Leverage to what? I had nothing, was worth nothing, and literally knew nothing of their world until a few weeks ago. I didn’t even freaking know that it was Harry’s weird hybrid friend what had just tried to kill me.

Harry shifted, nudging my head forward a little but his hand was quick to cup the side, pressed over my ear, to hold it in place until he settled back down. But he didn’t move his hand, as shocking and thrilling as that was. Instead, he let his fingers brush over my cheek, a gentle touch, before they brushed through my hair and he began to thread his fingers through the matted waves. Second by second, he untangled the knots and by the time I heard Harry clear his throat, his fingers were effortlessly gliding through my hair, aside form the occasional tug from his rings.

I allowed the feeling to lull me into a state of calmness, not sleep but on the borderline of being unconscious and conscious. “I would much rather we talk about this later,” Harry said, and I took note of the uncomfortable tone that was carefully hidden beneath a casual one.

I didn’t see what the woman did, but I heard as she took a few steps forward before a gust of wind was washing over my face and the towel was removed. “Don’t worry, Harry. You care for him, that much is obvious, and you know Niall will do anything for you. He’ll be safe.”

“Can you promise that?” Harry asked, and he sounded pained.

“What?”

“Can you promise me that he will be safe, and that a few days from now, when something like today happens, I will get there before it’s too late and he’ll be taken, or killed? Can you promise me that him knowing who I am, doesn’t pose a serious threat on his life?” He paused to take a shaky breath in, his fingers pausing their movement in my hair and I felt as they trembled. “Can you promise me that I’m good for him, and won’t eventually be the reason he’s killed?”

“Him knowing you is a blessing. You’re there to protect him from his destiny, Harry. You aren’t the one who wrote the prophecies, and you certainly couldn’t have seen what would happen when he walked down that alleyway. You aren’t the one to blame. Edith is. The clave is. You’re the one that needs to be thanked. He’d be dead by now, if not for you.”

“I can’t save him.” Harry argued, and my heart stilled. “I can’t protect him from everything, I can’t protect him from who he is.”

Who I am? Who am I? Who was Edith? What the fuck was my destiny and what were these prophecies about? “No, you can’t. You just have to make sure he knows what he is capable of, what people want from him, and you need to help him learn how to defend himself.”

A sudden tapping from somewhere inside the room caught everyone’s attention. Straining my ears to hear, I heard the click of the door opening. “Grace, Niall wants you. There’s been another attack.”

A heavy silence stretched over the room, and Harry’s hand that was on my head moved back down to my hip where he squeezed it tightly. “Stay, we’ve got this.” The woman whose name is apparently Grace, said.

“Be careful.” Harry murmured.

“Aren’t we always?” I could imagine the cheeky grin on her featureless face.

Silence ensued, before the sound of the door closing snapped the rubber band and Harry sighed. “I know you’re not asleep.”  _Shit. I’ve been caught._

“How?” I asked, still not moving because I was quite comfortable now and I forgot where I was laying.

“You moved, which you hardly do in your sleep,” he said, “and your breathing changed. You stopped snoring.”

“ ‘Don’t snore,” I argued, blushing at the thought of him paying close enough attention to how I breathed.

“Not loud, no. But you do snore.”

Leaning forward, I rolled onto my back, keeping my head from touching his crotch, and placed it back on his thigh. “So, about what happened.” I smiled up at him, forgetting I was supposed to be in pain and pissed, but oddly enough, I wasn’t. My hands came to rest on my stomach, fingers laced, and Harry’s hand stayed glued to my side.

He was beautiful from this angle, flawless even though he wasn’t trying. If the roles were reversed, my double chin would be the only thing he could focus on. “What about it?”  _Ah, so he was trying to play it off._

“Wasn’t asleep, remember? I heard your conversation.” Rolling my eyes, I fought the images trying to resurface. “The guy, that came to my lo—“

“Morgan.”

“Yes, Morgan. What did he want? He kept telling me that I was valuable, and he planned on using me as leverage while also draining me of my blood.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, confusion swamping his features. “Blood? For what?”

“To drink?” When I seen the same confusion on his face that I’d felt, I suddenly felt weird about continuing. Were hybrids not a thing? “He used magic at first, to keep my from moving. Then I started to bleed, and he-he licked the blood off my face and said my blood was unlike anything he’s ever tasted.”

“He’s a warlock. We don’t have a craving for human blood.”

“That’s the thing, Harry!” I groaned, exasperated because he want listening. “He had fangs!”

Something dawned on his face then. “Did he tell you anything else? Like who made him that way, or...?”

“He said two names.” I said, struggling to recall them. “Chalice, maybe? And...” I could feel the name on the tip of my tongue, dancing along my teeth but I couldn’t remember it. “I don’t know. It was a weird name? He said something about his son, though. The mans son.”

Harry was suddenly pushing me up, urging me to sit up, and when I didn’t respond in the second he gave me, he was sliding out from beneath me and my head fell back against the couch. At least it was cushioned this time. God knows I already had enough brain damage. “What? What is it?”

He was pacing now, fingernails between his teeth. Lost in thought, he didn’t respond to what I asked, but instead continued his antsy march. “There’s only a few select warlocks capable of magic to turn themselves or others into a hybrid, of sorts.” He said, stopping in his tracks to look at me. “We’ve had a few cases recently, similar to what Morgan was. It’s always a warlock whose genetics are tampered with. We’ve had hybrid seelies, wolves, demons and a few with angel blood, but never a vampire.”

“But—why? Why change who they are?”

“To strengthen themselves, to build an invincible army. Warlocks are powerful, yes, but very few have a full grasp on their magic and most drain themselves with a simple spell. By altering their genetics, they not only amplify their powers, but they add the abilities that, say, vampires have; speed, strength, compulsion.”

“O-Okay. You guys killed Morgan, though. Aren’t Warlock’s immortal?”

Harry began pacing again, this time with his arms flailing around him as he spoke, “All are born immortal, but they can still be killed. I’m the exception because of my bloody father.”

I slowly nodded. Pulling myself up, I folded my legs up on the couch with me and only now noticed I was wearing a black v-neck shirt that was far too large for me, and a pair of pink, sparkly leggings. The leggings must have belonged to the girl, but the shirt? And who changed me?

Okay, hold up. Harry was immortal. He couldn’t be killed, yet he once upon a time told me that he would eventually die. How did that work? “Back to me, not that I’m not interested in your life, but I’m kind of on the verge of having a mental breakdown and...” pausing to gasp in a lung full of air, I closed my eyes and counted to five.  _Calm down._  “Why are all these people after me? And why do you feel like  _you’re_  the one to blame?”

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his curly locks, not making eye contact with me when he turned to face me but rather looking behind me at the wall. “I shouldn’t have approached you that day. I should have let you leave and think what you wanted about what you say. Bloody hell, I should have just let you think you were going crazy. But I didn’t, and now people are hunting you because... because....” he was internally struggling to find what to say, conflicted to tell the truth but also knowing if he did, he would lose me. Or so he thought. “Because of who I am.” It was admitted in a defeated sigh and I knew he was turning the subject away from what I’d originally asked again, but my thoughts and questions could be put on hold for a minute.

“I chose to stick around, Harry. I know who you are, what you are, and what you do. I would be stupid to think stepping into this life  _wouldn’t_  be dangerous.”

Harry sighed and gave me a soft, almost shy smile. “I never claimed you to be smart, mundane.”

“And I never claimed you to be stupid, warlock,” I easily retorted with a grin. “So, they’re hunting me because of who you are.... but why?”

“As I’ve said before, my father blessed me with many things; immortality being one of them. But I— my power, is far more immense than any other warlock on this planet. By going after you, and taking you, they figured they would have leverage over my head and they could use me to do their bidding.”

“Would you have? If they’d taken me?”

His eyes flared at my question, emerald irises disappearing as the red hot embers sparked in his pupil. “They wouldn’t get that far.”

Lifting my hands in surrender, I nodded and tried to show I wasn’t going anywhere, that what I was saying wasn’t meaning I would be taken away literally. “Hypothetically, Harry. If you were somehow unable to come and help save me,”  _because apparently I’m a damsel in distress_ , “would you do anything they asked to get me back?”

“Hypothetically speaking?” He repeated, and when I nodded he continued. “If I, for some reason, couldn’t get to you in time, then yes. I would do everything within my power to get you back to safety.” And I wasn’t sure if it was because that was what I wanted to hear that warmed my heart, or if it was because of how sincere he had said them. I didn’t doubt Harry would always save me, that he would raise hell on earth just to protect me, and I knew he would stop at nothing. He cared about me on a level I didn’t know, and wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.

The way he was watching me, so intently, like he was trying to mesmerize my face, had my breath hitching in my throat. His gaze was heated, bringing with it a tingling sensation that ghosted over my skin. “And I would, for you. Even if that makes me stupid and reckless, and I have to use shards of glass to protect myself.”

At the mention of glass, I looked down at my palms and seen there wasn’t cuts, yet still glued beneath my fingers was his skin that I’d scratched off. “Did you heal me?” I asked without missing a beat, somehow managing to get it all out without stuttering. Running a hand down my thigh, I found not even a bump of scar tissue. There was no proof that any of that had happened, on my body at least.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No? I just wanted to say thank you to the right person. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he grinned, dimples popping out with full force.

“Uhm, okay.”

“Okay.” He tilted his head to the side and smiled. “You need to move back in with your mother.”

 _Wait, what?_ “Why the hell do I need to do that? I quite like my loft.”

“Your loft has been marked. Any and all Downworlders searching for you, can easily smell your scent there. Your mothers house, however, is a lot closer to my loft, and it wouldn’t be too hard to put up a few protection wards that will prevent anybody with impure blood from passing through.”

“So, she’ll be protected?” I asked. I wasn’t willing to move home and put my mothers life in jeopardy just because I found I liked how pretty a warlock was. “She won’t... she won’t end up like me?”

Harry shook his head. “No. Your loft was on the other side of town, and I could only do so much to protect a space that wasn’t yours. Deidre refused.” He exhaled sharply, hip jutting out as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

“And she is??”

“A warlock that lives in your building. She respects my space, and I respect hers. I couldn’t go about putting up wards without her permission, even if I am her boss.” He was clearly heated about this entire situation. “That’s besides the point. Your mothers house has not been claimed by anybody, therefore I do not need permission. She will be protected, and to further protect her, I will give you a crystal you can gift her with. It will not glow like yours, but will do just about the same. And I expect both of you to wear it.”

Snapping his fingers before I could respond, a small wooden box fell to my lap, the outside covered in red velvet. Inside was a small silk cushion was a light pink crystal, similar to mine but smaller. “I took it off to shower,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, addressing the comment that had clearly been shade thrown at me. Has he always been this demanding?

“It’s not an electronic, Louis. It can get wet.”

Was it me, or did this conversation steer way off course? There was still so many things he refused to answer, so many things I didn’t know, and I was afraid to let him see how much all of this truly terrified me. I didn’t want to be hunted, or killed, or taken to be used as leverage; leverage over Harry, especially. His words were comforting, but also an eye opener. If anyone ever took me, they could do with Harry as they pleased, make him do whatever they wanted and I wasn’t sure how much he could endure before he lost his humanity, before his conscious finally stopped trying to talk some sense into him. I didn’t want Harry to be used because of me, but I also couldn’t leave. This infuriating man who always skirted around my questions, was worth more than I could give, more than I was worth, and he was willing to fight for me.

It was now my turn to fight for him. 


	9. You're kind of a dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know. This is HORRIBLY late, but life has been hectic recently. I have wild fires surrounding me, and have been trying to focus on not getting caught up in the middle of it. But let me tell you, smoke is a bitch. So, if you live in Utah, and know what fires im referring to, I am terribly sorry. Fingers crossed for rain!
> 
> Anywhoodle, THANK you all so much for leaving behind your support! This story will be around for a bit, and expect it to pick up speed soon! 
> 
> :)

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. This is HORRIBLY late, but life has been hectic recently. I have wild fires surrounding me, and have been trying to focus on not getting caught up in the middle of it. But let me tell you, smoke is a bitch. So, if you live in Utah, and know what fires im referring to, I am terribly sorry. Fingers crossed for rain!

Anywhoodle, THANK you all so much for leaving behind your support! This story will be around for a bit, and expect it to pick up speed soon!

:)

 

 

Louis was an energized bunny running at full speed, never once stopping to wonder what he was doing or if he had messed up somehow. He simply followed the flow, allowed his lax limbs to awaken and flail as he danced, and hum, and sang. He was in a good mood. A  _really_  good mood. He felt as if months had passed since he’d met Harry, since he cracked open the stubborn warlock and was finally able to peel back the layers, no longer just seeing the surface; a man bored with life, who happened to enjoy the idea of humans, but were not too keen on the actual idea of them.

The fact that the dark, brooding arsehole you seen in movies, the ones who always rode motorcycles and thought emotions made you weak, popped into Louis’ mind every time he thought of Harry, made him giggle. Harry wasn’t some hard arse. He was an arse, and did try to put up those brick walls and appear as if he was emotionless and cruel, when he wasn’t. He’s shut himself off for too long, let himself believe he was a monster who had the blood of innocence’s staining his skin, visible for all to see. So he hid away and became what they seen.

Only, he wasn’t that. He  _was_  a warlock, born with demon blood and having taken more lives than Louis could possibly fathom, but the regret was there; in his eyes, in his voice, in the way he carried himself. Each life weighed heavily on his shoulders, each damned soul a dark whisper in his ear. But Louis knew him, knew who he was. He killed those who preyed on the innocent; protected the ones who couldn’t protect themselves.

And Louis found himself wondering if that’s why Harry was drawn to him. He wasn’t weak, or fragile, or helpless, but he was less of a man than Harry was. He wasn’t immortal, didn’t have powers and certainly couldn’t defend himself when his life depended on it, and Harry knew that. He had witnessed the multiple times he had nearly been broken, taken advantage of simply because he wasn’t  _strong_  to their standards.

Harry needed to feel like he was important, like he was protecting someone and if Louis playing his role as a helpless little boy in need of a flamboyant warlocks protection, meant Harry stayed around, then he’d happily throw himself into danger; as long as Harry always came to rescue him.

His life was already in danger, the black cloud hovering over him like a suffocating aunt who stunk of vodka and loneliness. He wished they would have met under different circumstances, that Harry had been a simple mortal or Louis had been someone like him, and that he wasn’t in constant danger just by being around the man. He wasn’t worried about himself so much as he was about Harry.

Anything happened to Louis, anything at all, and the boy could deal with it. But Harry would go mad. Louis could already see Harry raising hell on earth just to find him, doing as he was told even though he undoubtedly knew he would never get Louis back unless he found him. As long as the boy was in the right hands, Harry would be nothing more than a puppet on strings; awaiting their masters whispered instructions.

Swiping at his forehead, as if he was banishing away all thoughts, Louis exhaled deeply and took a step back to admire the cake he’d been working on all day. It was supposed to be a double layered red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting, all made from scratch, but the actual finished product looked a lot different than the photo in his mums cook book. His cake was lopsided and small, the frosting thin but lumpy and far too sweet. It was dry, too, the outside layer of the cake a dark, nearly black, color. The frosting did little to hide the charred, over cooked sponges.

Pouting, and honestly disappointed that he’d failed when he’d tried so hard and had intently followed the directions and did as he was told, Louis threw the cake in the garbage, plate and all. He wasn’t a baker, or a cook. He couldn’t make anything to save his arse, and probably would have starved while he lived away from home if he hadn’t adopted the scarce eating pattern most college students did. That, and fast food  _really_  saved his life.

He had been trying to make a cake to give Harry as a thank you, for saving his life. The warlock didn’t know it yet, but he also wanted to meet the other people who had helped save him. Harry he portalled him out of the room he’d woke up in a few days ago after being attached before he had a chance to meet anyone, and it both disappointed and hurt him. Was he really that bad of a person?

Calling up the local baker, Louis ordered a cake identical to the one he’d attempted to make, and scrawled the pick up time on his hand in black ink, carefully blowing the wet lines before he closed his fist, not wanting to smudge it. His classes were over for the day, he was surprisingly caught up with his assignments and Christmas was fastly approaching. Sure, he had to get through Halloween and Thanksgiving first, and even his own birthday, but nothing excited him more than the thought of a fat man with rosy cheeks, squeezing down his chimney at night with a strange sack. Was he truly giving gifts, or secretly taking them?

Louis knew Santa wasn’t real, of course, or at least that’s what his Mum had said. He had felt otherwise his entire life, had fiercely defended the old mans name and reputation, refusing to believe human minds could conjure up such a creature. And he had been right. He’d asked Harry, of course, and the man had confirmed his suspicions.

Old Nick was a warlock who preferred to keep to himself, and  _did_  live in the North Pole. Only, he lived there not because he enjoyed the cold, but because there he drew enough power every year to portal himself all across the world. He left one gift, one special gift for each person that asked, and was petty enough to leave coal in the stockings of those who didn’t believe him, but had also been bad. Apparently the man was old, far older than Harry, and had enough protection spells put up to protect not only himself, but his seven hundred elves. The poor reindeers  _were_  made up.

The elves were like his children; correction, they were his children. Apparently Santa, too, had a craving for companionship and he’d had far too many late nights with a seelie, hints as to why his elves have pointed ears. They never grew, or really matured, past a certain age because that’s how the old man in red preferred it. If they didn’t grow up, grow old and discover the world, then they’d have no reason to leave him. In their childish minds, they remained blissfully unaware of the world, and was only ever focused on making their papa happy, and pleasing the children around the world.

A chirping from his phone brought him out of his thoughts, clearing the milky haze that had covered his orbs like a thick layer. It was only an email, and Louis sighed dejectedly. He hasn’t heard from Harry today, which wasn’t that rare, sadly. Harry talked to him when he wanted to; when it pleased him.

Unhooking the keys off the shelf next to the door, Louis sent his mother a silent thank you for letting him borrow the extra car. Locking up behind himself, he jogged down the steps and nearly fell on his ass twice. It rained last night, and that mixed with the low temperatures, created a thick layer of ice both deadly to Louis in, or out of the car. Slipping and sliding his way into the garage, Louis was just happy when he finally pulled out of the garage without an incident.

He had thought about going Christmas shopping, but decided against it. If he started this early, he’d only wind up buying far more gifts than his credit card could pay for. He had the hefty inheritance from his father keeping him afloat, and would continue doing so if he lived to be a hundred and fifty years old and spent to his heart's desire every day. He hated the money, though. Hated that he got it because his father had passed on, and he rarely spent it on personal items. If he ever tapped into the account, it was for special occasions such as Christmas or birthdays. Spending it on others, didn’t bother him half as much when he spent it on himself.

Belting the lyrics to the song playing through the Bluetooth radio, his phone screen lit up as the song continued on. The song suddenly cut off mid lyric and his phone began to ring, loud and blaring through the speakers. Jumping, Louis hit his hand blindly around the cup holder until he found his phone and was able to swipe the green button to answer, somehow managing to keep the car steady and in its own lane.

“Hello?” He asked, flipping on his blinker to turn right.

“Hey,” a smooth voice, so fucking raspy, said through the speakers, amplified and wrapping around Louis’ entire body. A shiver ran up his spine.

“Hey,” Louis parroted back, hands gripping the steering wheel. He was a little weirded out to hear Harry through the speaker of his phone, but he wouldn’t say so. He was just thankful the man was finally calling him. “Uhm- Sorry. What did you need?”

Harry hummed, and Louis nearly crooned at the sound. “I was just calling to see if you were busy tonight.”

“Why not just stop by? It’s not like you’re against popping up whenever you want.”

“Because,” Harry said, and Louis could hear the grin in his voice. “I was giving you privacy. Calling before I just showed up.”

It kind of disappointed Louis, that Harry was doing what Louis had asked him to do many times, but it was also nice to know the man was taking his wishes seriously. “Ah, well. No. Not busy. Why? Did you want me to meet you somewhere?” Louis asked, head turned to look out his window as he waited for the light to change colors.

“No, actually,” Harry said, and he suddenly sounded a lot closer; voice a lot clearer. “I was hoping to take you somewhere. A sort of surprise.”

And when Louis turned around, he was nearly jumping out his partially open window because Harry was in his driver seat, leaning over the center console, with a smug grin. Louis scream, heart jack hammering against his rib cage. “So much for not just popping up whenever!”

Harry shrugged and clicked the red button on his phone, the static sound following through the speakers as Louis’ phone went dark. “I called, I warned.” Pulling back to eye Louis, Harry purses his lips. “Why? Are you going somewhere.”

“To get you a cake, asshat.” Louis hissed, jerking the car back into drive. “And to answer your question, no. I’m not busy tonight. But I don’t like surprises.”

“Ooo, for what?” Harry asked, popping open the jockey box to snoop through it. “Did somebody die?”

Louis gasped and blindly swatted at Harry, but still managed to hit his shoulder. “God, no. I’m getting you and those two friends of yours a cake, to say thank you.”

Seemingly finding nothing interesting in the jockey box, Harry slammed it shut and moved to the center console, only to pause in his movements. “For what?”

“Saving my life?”

“Louis,” Harry breathed out, and it amazed Louis how he managed to say his name so differently at times. Most days, hearing his name fall from Harry’s lips had his heart thumping wildly and his blood pumping. In the here and now, though, it made his stomach flutter as he turned to look at Harry, now stopped in the parking lot. “Louis.” The man repeated, and once again he made that single word so compact full of different emotions; things. It was like he was just now discovering the world with the word, amazement and curiosity twisting around his tongue.

“You don’t owe us anything. It is our job to protect your kind... and even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t stop until I knew you were safe.”

Louis blushed and ducked his head, hiding his blurry eyes from Harry. It was such a simple thing to say, but it made him feel important, cared for— safe. “Still. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you guys, and the least I can do is buy you a cake. I could have forced you to eat my charcoaled hockey pucks, but I took pity.”

Harry laughed, head tipping back so his Adam’s apple protruded against the tan skin around his neck. “I would have loved it.” He mumbled, and Louis was sure he would have pretended to, but he quite liked his... boyfriend. Poisoning him was for later in the relationship.

Inhaling shakily, Louis mustered enough courage to smile at Harry before he swung his car door open and climbed out. “I meant what I said,” Louis heard Harry say in a small, small voice just as he was closing his door. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Oh, but on the contrary. Louis owed him everything, even if Harry refused to believe it.

——-

Harry held a hand out to him, fingers open and smile inviting. His dimples were visible craters in his cheeks, and his eyes shone with an almost child-like light. Louis was sure he was getting a glimpse at the boy Harry had once been, before he realized the cruel world he’d been drug into.

He didn’t hesitate to take his hand, their fingers wedging together, creating a woven barricade of flesh and bones that held them together. He immediately felt at ease, stomach no longer rolling when he gazed below his feet and seen old, metal bars that were literally the only thing keeping him from falling to his death. “I’m trusting you, curly.” Louis said through clenched teeth, unconsciously tightening his hold on Harry’s hand. “Don’t let me fall.”

The words were left unspoken, but Louis got the answer when Harry cast a playful scowl over his shoulder.  _I wouldn’t let you fall,_  the look said, _I would never let go._  And he trusted him, more than a human should trust another... human?

Harry led him across the shady, decaying metal and held a finger to his lips, demanding Louis’ silence as he dropped to his knees, momentarily unlinking their fingers. “Follow me,” he whispered, legs disappearing into the large, black hole that took up half of the wall.

“If you think I’m crawling my arse in there, then you’re delusional.” Louis said, popping a hip out and immediately sucking air through his teeth when Harry shushed him again. Giving an impish grin, Louis shrugged as his bottom lip slipped between his teeth. “Sorry.” He whispered, voice a harsh rasp. “I’m not good at being quiet, especially when I feel like I’m being led to my death.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry scoffed and gripped the rock covered ledge. Using it, Louis watched as he finished slipping into the hole, immediately disappearing in the darkness. “Come on,” a distant voice encouraged, distorted and very demonic sounding but there was the light, sweet undertone that Louis would know anywhere.

Going against every horror book he’s ever read, and every horror movie he’s ever seen, he did exactly what little old Georgie did and he followed the creepy clown into the dark hole. Sliding to his butt, Louis carefully eased his legs into the dark unknown, careful to not kick Harry in the face, and managed to keep from squealing when a spider ran across his hand. “Catch me.” He whisper shouted, giving Harry literally a second warning before he pushed against the wall and went sliding into the hole.

He was sure he would meet the hard ground, that he would die in a dark, creepy room with mice running around his decomposing body and that Harry wouldn’t even have enough decency to inform anyone where his body was. But, rather than his vivid, five second vision coming true, he was deposited into two arms that wrapped around his body like vines, grip unbreakable.

A arm was wound around his back, long fingers digging into his doughy side and another arm was hooked beneath the crook of his knees. He was cradled against a strong chest that smelt familiar; mint stinging his nostrils as that woodsy scent fought to become known. Nuzzling his nose into Harry’s chest without a second thought, Louis threw all caution to the wind and tipped his head back to grin at his breathtaking warlock.

Only to realize that rather than being in some dingy, abandoned room, they were in a white hallway, bright fluorescent lights hanging over head. “Where are we?” He asked, confusion dipping his eyebrows.

Without setting him down, returning him to his own legs, Harry nodded towards the wall, seeing as his arms were full, and watched as the two foot hole disappeared. “The institute.” He said, as if it was no big deal. “You wanted to meet Niall and them so,” leaving the rest of the sentence hanging, he shrugged and hefted Louis up a little further to get a better grip. Neither of them mentioned the fact that they’d just came in through a hole in the wall, mainly because Louis knew he wasn’t wanted nor welcome here.

“The institute?” Louis hissed, wide eyes looking around. “What the fuck, H! I didn’t bring my cake, and why the fuck is the institute in some old fucking building?”

The inside looked much different from the outside. It was higher tech, almost mirroring a hospital aside from the lack of the constant chatter demanding to be heard over the beeping machines, and the disgusting sterile cleaners. It was quiet in here, corridor long and intimidating now that Louis knew who had walked down it, whose shadows had been casted along the walls.

Grinning, Harry nodded. “I’m keeping the cake.” Louis wouldn’t argue with that, happy that he’d done something to make Harry happy. “And for discretion. Nobody is going to go snooping around an old abandoned warehouse. Mundanes, at least. To the...”

“Supernatural?”

Harry glared down at the boy in his arms. He hated that word, and Louis knew it. He wasn’t some fucking ghost. “To the ones more advanced in  _everything_ ,”  _shade_! “It looks as it should. A five story building constantly lit up with bright, beckoning lights begging to be infiltrated and tainted with downworlders filth.”

Lip curling at his words, Harry began to walk down the quiet hallway, only the tap of his shoes against the tiled floor echoing against the walls. “I can get behind that. Let’s taint it? Show these holy freaks that unless they’re down to do the dirty, then they’re missing out on a whole lot of good looking filth.” Louis was talking a bunch of rubbish, but hoping his words would ease the knot he felt forming in Harry’s shoulders.

Chuckling despite himself, Harry shook his head. “We can taint whatever you’d like.”

Perking up at that, Louis lifted his head to assure, for the fiftieth time, that they were alone, only to hear the creak of a door opening. Stiffening in Harry’s arms, Louis didn’t have time to react before he was placed on his jelly legs, expected to hold himself up, and shoved behind Harry’s back. “What are you doing?” He asked in a soft whisper, the ball of his knotted hands resting at the small of Harry’s back as Louis folded in on himself and pressed as close to Harry as he could get, trying to draw comfort from his presence. He pressed his forehead against the knot he’d felt earlier, taking note that it was much larger now.

Harry didn’t respond. He stayed still and unmoving, statue-like. Louis held his breath, spine tingling with the sudden fear of being caught and killed. “Harry?” A voice whispered, tugging at the mental strands in Louis’ brain.

When some of the tension left Harry’s body, Louis chanced a small peak around his arm and seen two people approaching them, one a woman and the other a shorter man. He couldn’t see them that well from where he was, and he still wasn’t sure if it was safe so he ducked behind Harry’s again and huddled closer to him.

He was sure Harry wouldn’t bring him to this place, knowing he’d get killed if caught. Or, at least he was hoping.

“Over here, Grace.” Harry called, and Louis’ head cocked at the name. She was the one who had helped him, wasn’t she? He could have sworn she was the one putting the wet cloth on his forehead.

“Where’s the boy? Did you decide not to bring him? Afraid we’d see the big badarse crumble because of a little mund—“ the male with the familiar voice had started to say, only to cut off when Harry took a step to the side to reveal a cowering Louis.

Eyes wide, Louis flashed a toothy grin and stood up, straightening his spine. “H-Hi.” He stuttered, flushing with embarrassment. “I’m—“

“Louis.” Grace finished for him, grinning. “Yes, yes. We know all about you.”

Nose twitching, Louis shifted on his feet, unsure of what to do, and glanced at Harry. That wasn’t awkward at all, to learn that a complete stranger knew about you. “Oh, forgive me. I’m Grace,” the woman said, extending a long arm with slim fingers. Louis took it hesitantly, and watched as she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the man who had been silent since his outburst when they’d first entered the hallway. “And this is my brother, Niall.”

Grace was beautiful. She was a little bit taller than Louis, all legs, and she had thick waves or curly, dirty blonde hair tumbling down her shoulder and encompassing her back and the tops of her arms. She had golden skin, freckles littering her body and focusing around the curve of her nose. Her eyes were a warm honey shade, dark yet warm and welcoming.

Her brother, on the other hand, was all too tucking familiar. “You’re the guy!” Louis shouted, too unbothered to remember he was supposed to be quiet. “The one outside Harry’s apartment.”

Harry looked between the two, brow arched with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Oh, really? Outside  _my_ apartment?” He asked, eyeing Niall, who was momentarily stunned by being recognized.

Defrosting, Niall scoffed. “Calm down, Daddio. I gave Louis a little pep talk, to try and get him to go up to your apartment.” Niall said, arms folding across his chest. “So, rather than glaring like a pissed off dog who just got his balls snipped off, you can thank me.”

Harry let out a dry chuckle. “For what, you pocket sized gremlin? He would have found me, with or without your,” lifting his fingers to use quotation marks, Harry continued, “ _pep talk_.”

“Piss off, you trash panda. See if I help another one of your lost puppies.”

To Louis, it looked and sounded as if they were really fighting, and pissed off at each other. To anyone who knew the two of them when together, they would know it was simple teasing that would end up in the... hug that just happened.

Bewildered, Louis’ eyes flickered from Grace’s amused face, to the two men hugging as they laughed, then back towards the place he’d entered in hopes of finding an escape.

When he took a slow step backwards, just an instinct when he knew of nothing else to do, all eyes fell on him and he laughed breathlessly. He was awkward and uncomfortable and felt like he was in a room surrounded by insane people. “Uh-sorry. Just shifting my feet.”

Harry smiled small at him, soft and warm and it fueled Louis with encouragement. “Sorry for that, Lou.” The warlock began, choosing to ignore the elbow jab Grace gave Niall, both snorting at not only the rare apology falling from Harry’s lips, but also the nickname said with such fondness it was sickening. “This is Niall, and Grace. Both of which I’ve mentioned,”

“Barely,” Louis mumbled before quickly catching himself. “Ah, yes. The two shadowhunters.”

Honestly, he didn’t remember much about them, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he wasn’t told much, or if because his brain was so crammed full of all things Harry it just began to deposit all of the things thought to be unnecessary.

The three of them shared a look, something unspoken passing between them before Grace nodded and smiled. “Yes. I see Harry has caught you up on us, and what we do at the institute. Has he also mentioned what you are?”

“Uh... no?” Louis’ brows creased, somehow missing the worried look Harry gave Grace followed by his lip curling up in a snarl.

“Harry!” She gasped, waving him and his look off. “The least you could’ve done was tell the poor boy he’s a mundane.”

Rolling his eyes with an annoyed fondness, Harry glared at her. “He knows all the correct terms, Grace.”

Louis nodded, feeling the need to come to Harry’s defense. “Y-Yeah, he has. It just slipped my mind.” God, these people were fucking intimidating. Nice, but intimidating. They both had these godly appearances, sending off waves of this pureness very few people had. They were both gorgeous, and neither acted as if they knew that. They were oblivious.

And suddenly, he felt out of place. He didn’t belong here, not really. He could laugh, and smile and pretend, hiding behind Harry all the while feeling the judging eyes on his body. This wasn’t his world, and to be honest, he wasn’t even sure he had a world. How could he possibly fit into this side of Harry, this major fucking part of his life, when he couldn’t even fit in in the real world? He was embarrassed and ashamed, and the feeling was suddenly being projected to Harry, who stood oblivious to Louis’ little freak out, talking to his friends without a single little care. But he should. Louis would ruin his image, taint the life he has so carefully put together, and was a few short mortal years really worth that, to him?

He has gotten his answer from him already, has honestly gotten more than enough to know these worries weren’t valid, but sometimes his heart didn’t listen to his brain. The red ball in his chest was pounding away, wanting Harry, while his brain was warning him; telling him to take caution and assure he didn’t drag Harry down to his level. It wasn’t just that, though. He... ugh! He’s felt like an open fucking book with the warlock, and he’s afraid to open up even more. People leave. Even when they promise not to, even when they swear they love you as fiercely as you do them... they leave, and Harry was bound to follow their lead.

Backing towards a wall, Louis tried to pretend as he glued a fake grin on his face. His eyes somehow found the side of Harry’s face, and there he seen something that churned his gut. The man before him, wasn’t the man who had once upon a time, hid him away from all the monsters and refused to let him meet those he held close to him. This man was artificial, face plastic-y as he talked animatedly with the two god sent creatures.

He was fake, putting on a show and the wild thump of Louis’ heart slowed down to a smooth crawl, allowing more than the blood rushing trough his veins to be heard. They were talking about a hunt, which Harry had once said was when they hunted the rogue downworlders, and Louis realized even his voice sounded odd... forced, still sweet but like superficial sugar.

He was putting on a show, hiding too from the people he’d said he cared for, and Louis realized he’d never pretended or faked anything around him. Harry was himself around Louis, so painstakingly carefree and childish that it warmed his heart. And as if Harry could feel his stare, his head slowly turned and when his eyes met Louis’, the look melted away and he was grinning; an honest to god, genuine grin with two pits etched into his cheeks.

“You okay?” He asked, but his voice wasn’t needed. It was the soft tilt of his head and the slight crunch of his eyes, green orbs carefully taking in everything on the blue eyed boys body, as if he could read his emotions with the simple look.

Louis sniffled and gave a small, subtle nod because yes, he was okay. These were Harry’s people, and if Harry thought Louis was worthy of meeting them, then he damn well better step up his game.

Returning the smile, Louis gave a quick shake of his limbs and took in a deep, calming breath before he stepped forward, head held high even if his lip trembled with fear. “Harry’s told me a lot about you guys,” Louis cut in, not at all caring that he was interrupting the siblings conversation about who has killed the most vampires.

All eyes were on him once again, but rather than shying away like he once did, he stood his ground and grinned. “Oh, yeah?” Niall asked with a teasing curl of his lip. “What’s the ogre told you?”

Louis hadn’t considered the question following his admittance, and he wished he would have thought before he spoke. He didn’t know Shit about these two people, aside from the fact that they’re shadowhunters. He had to improvise, and fast. “Well,” he began, eyeing Niall in a sort of assessing way. “The short fake blonde is you, I’m assuming.” Niall gave a low snort and bumped into Harry with his shoulder. “He said you are competitive, and have to be the best at everything or nothing. You care about winning, and pleasing your parents. He also said you’re kind of a dick.”

Smirking at Niall’s open mouth, Louis turned to the girl. “And I’m assuming your the pretty, yet stubborn girl.” Grace blushed and her eyes flickered to Harry for a brief moment, and Louis filed that away for later even as jealousy rang through his body. She likes him, or did. “He said you were just as competitive as your brother, but you used your brain and looks to your advantage. You kick ass and don’t let anybody tell you what to do, and that he admires your bitchiness.”

Louis was good at reading people, or so he’s made himself believe. He was honestly hoping he hadn’t just fucked up everything with Harry and his friends. Looking between all of them, Louis’ dull canines dug into the flesh on the inside of his cheek. Silence stretched around them, heavy and borderlining uncomfortable.

It was Niall who broke first. A fist was dug into his stomach as he doubled over and began to laugh. “Either you’ve gone soft, or Louis is holding back on us.” The Irish man laughed, tear pricked eyes trained on Harry’s face.

Harry shrugged and winked at Louis. “Can’t say everything I’ve told him about you, Ni. Children are present.” He nodded his head towards Grace, who scoffed and stomped her foot.

“I’m seventeen, Harry. I’m not a child, and I’ve heard Shit that would make even you blush.” She said.

“Doubt that, peach. Immortal here. I’ve heard all there is to hear, and have even dabbled in creating a few of your favorite vulgar words.” And once again, age was the superior but in this case, it was understandable. Harry was  _old_.

The conversation flowed easily after that, and Louis was reluctant to admit that he actually liked Niall and Grace. Despite the fact that, in the eyes of their people, they were better than both Louis and Harry, they never treated them differently and Louis was grateful.

They say in the quiet hallway for hours, talking as Harry conjured up whatever kind of alcohol or food they wanted. Louis was double fisting at the moment, a glass of red wine in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. He was feeling sort of tipsy from the alcohol, but definitely not enough to affect him in anyway. They were all talking about the stupidest thing they’d ever done, and it was just coming around to Louis when both Niall’s and Grace’s phone rang in unison.

“Shit,” Niall cursed, jumping to his feet and spilling his bottle of beer. “We’ve got a case.”

“Need any help?” Harry asked, him too climbing to his feet but he was admittedly more graceful in the one fluid movement.

Niall shook his head at first, but then he focused on the screen in his hand and groaned. “Actually, maybe. We’ve got reports of a few demons downtown. It doesn’t say how many, but they’re guessing upwards of at least twenty.”

“But you can stay, if you want. Ni and I can manage.” Grace rushed to say.

“No, no. Go, Harry. My cars still out front. I can get home. Help them.” Louis said, groaning as he stood up. His legs were sore from being bent beneath his body and set on for so long, but his legs were surprisingly stable. “Go.” Louis urged when he seen the look Harry gave him. He truly didn’t want Harry to go, but he also didn’t want to be  _that_  person who held their partner back.

The curly haired man bit his lip and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’ll see you tonight.” He promised, and before Louis could tell him goodbye, or even try and sneak a hug, he was suddenly in his car that was running, and the cake that had occupied the passenger seat, was gone.

Along with his freaking buzz. “Fuck you, Harry!” He yelled, a small smile dancing on his lip even though he was a little pissed that Harry had actually left. A part of him wanted him to refuse and stay with him, but the rational part of him knew that wasn’t an option. But wait!!!!

Maybe…. just maybe…. he could go next time? It wasn’t like Harry could deny him the chance to see them fight. Well, he could but Louis would still find a way to find them and watch. Or maybe he could talk Harry into it… somehow convince him he was ready or could defend himself.

And it was that thought that had an idea piercing his brain. If he couldn’t defend himself, maybe it was time to learn how. Pulling out his phone with a grin, Louis opened Harry’s message thread and typed the following message:

_So, I was thinking… and maybe it’s time I learned to fight? I can’t always depend on you to protect me, and I think it’s about time I start to learn how to defend myself…. on that note, teach me your ways, oh wise one? Pleaseeeeee. And if you won’t, or don’t feel comfortable, I’m sure I could find someone else. Think Niall would?_

_Anyway, be safe, Haz. Let me know what you think, okay?_

And before he could stop himself, it was sent.

—Sent to:  _My Knight in tinfoil_

This had the potential to either be his best, or worst idea yet.

And then it happened.

_Read_ _8:23_


End file.
